Riding Towards Sunset: ARC 3 Old Betrayal
by Mr DCWood
Summary: The Queen of Swords and Sergeant Williams are slowly, but successfully weeding Santa Helena's military of its corruption, putting Montoya's reign under grave threat. But the tables turn on Williams when a ghost from his past threatens him and his wife.
1. The Tide Turns

_Disclaimer: Queen of Swords was created by Fireworks Entertainment, and is owned by ContentFilm. This story is NOT affiliated with the rights holders or the show's original creators. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made. This story is for entertainment purposes only._

_The author would like to thank Robert Vincent for all his valuable support and input._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10: The Tide Turns<strong>

Williams fired a shot, wounding Sergeant Diego in the chest. The corrupt soldier collapsed in a heap, clasping his chest and gasping painfully for breath.

"You…shot…me…!" wheezed Diego in agony, fearing for his life.

"You should have listened when you had the chance, Diego!" barked the Golden Sergeant, as he approached his ex-comrade. He knelt down and took the rope to bind his wrists together.

"I only warn _once_," Williams explained coldly, taking some dressing out from his jacket and placing it on Diego's wound. "Now if you got a brain, you'll keep that in place and lie still while we..."

"Look out, sir!"

The Golden Sergeant turned to see one of Diego's accomplices – one who didn't believe in _any_ warnings whatsoever - aim his rifle at him, and about to squeeze the trigger. When the warning cry took the murderer by surprise. The next thing he knew, he felt his kneecap explode in blood and agony, thanks to the pistol shot that had saved the Golden Sergeant's life.

Lionel stood up to observe the corrupt scum that now lay howling on the ground, clutching his agonising wound for dear life. Lionel blew out a small sigh of relief, and then turned to see the rookie approach him.

"Nice save, Tomas," thanked Lionel to the young soldier under his command. He then nodded to the fallen criminal. "And alive, too. More witnesses to testify in court will make convictions more viable."

"Thank you, Sergeant," the newly qualified recruit acknowledged.

Williams then turned to survey all that was left of the camp, which wasn't much. Tents had been blown apart and searched, all the munitions had been seized, escape routes had been cut off, and Corporal Marco was bringing out the last of the captured corrupt soldiers and bandits.

The American breathed in the night-time air one more time, before turning to Tomas, "Is that everyone?"

"All of Sergeant Diego's men, and twenty of the dealers," reported the rookie.

"Good work, Corporal."

"But sir, Daimio and five of his men got away."

"Did they now?" smirked Lionel in satisfaction.

Meanwhile, in the cave down below, just under the grounds of the camp...

The bandits had barely mounted their horses when two sets of bolas came out of nowhere, ensnaring two of the riders and leaving them helpless and captive on the ground. The rest of Daimio's men soon fell in a mere matter of moments.

The rogue weapons dealer and notorious murderer Daimio Fernard was now the only one left, facing off against the Queen of Swords, who just kicked the pistol out of his hands as soon as he drew it. Now forced to rely on his swordplay, Daimio soon made the Avenging Angel realise that he wasn't going to go down without a fight.

But that was all.

The Queen ducked, parried and sidestepped Daimio's attacks with no trouble, and spent most of the time just smiling mockingly at him, with her left hand on her waist and her right hand resting her sword across her shoulders behind her head.

"You're not bad actually, Daimio," nodded the Queen, amused. "Just nowhere near better than me."

The provocation naturally enraged the dealer, who attacked with blind fury. The Queen (who had now gotten bored) blocked the strike, then unleashed a fearsome combination of triangles, too much for the outclassed Daimio to keep up with. The Queen backed him up against the cave wall, knocked the sword out of his hand and then finished him with the knockout blow.

The masked Tessa grinned triumphantly down at the illegal trader, placed her rapier back in the ring on her sword belt and then took her tarot card that she'd tucked away in her bodice and casually flung it on the body of her fallen foe.

Where moments later, after she'd gone, it was picked up by Sergeant Williams, whose men had found the hidden cave underneath, along with the bulk of Daimio's smuggled munitions and weapons and now had the criminal and his gang in custody.

Lionel smiled at the Queen of Swords card and then pocketed it as he left the cave to rejoin his men on the surface, saying to himself, "Thanks again, kid."

* * *

><p>Corporals Marco, Tomas, Benjamin and all of Sergeant William's platoon now had Sergeant Diego, Daimio Fernard and all their men (corrupt soldiers and bandits alike) defeated and in chains. Reinforcements had now arrived along with several horse carts to seize the riches and munitions, and take all the arrested and slain criminals away.<p>

Meanwhile, from Daimio's tent, the Queen and Williams secretly looked on as the soldiers cleaned up what was left of the successful operation, and smiled.

"Good going, kid," congratulated Lionel, drawing the exit covers behind him as they retreated back inside.

"Same to you, old man," Tessa smiled back, as they shook hands. "More corruption exorcised from Montoya's ranks, and one of California's biggest smugglers and arms dealers captured and put out of business."

"Sometimes I think Montoya's _too_ desperate to get hold of his precious cannons," remarked the Golden Boy. "Mr Fernard obviously could've delivered, given how he bought his way into the aristocracy by trading in stolen military supplies from Monterey. Still a fool, though. Actually buying Diego's cover story that he was planning a mutiny against our 'esteemed governor'."

"Hmm," mused a disappointed Queen.

"What's wrong?"

"Shame that Diego's cover story will actually hold up in court. Montoya's not at the scene, not connected to the crime in anyway – _again_ – and Diego's men don't know anything. Daimio never knew he was dealing with Montoya, and even if Diego decides to say it was Montoya, who'd believe him?"

"I know. Still, by my reckoning, that's _half_ of the Santa Helena forces put away for corruption now. _Half_ of Montoya's soldiers, convicted, killed and/or replaced. Those new volunteers, all the latest hand-picked transfers from Spain, my men finally back in my platoon…if we wanted too, we could overthrow the Napoleon wannabe, just like in Madrid a few years back."

The Queen of Swords gave Sergeant Williams an incredulous look.

"_Joke_, Queen," he smiled back, raising his eyebrows.

"A _joke_, Sergeant?" laughed the vigilante, fondly. "I don't know what scares me more. The idea of a revolution in Santa Helena being serious or _you_ actually starting to crack jokes."

"Lay off, Tessa," muttered Williams, still smiling as he looked away.

"Should've known all my repartee would crack you up _eventually_, Lionel. I would've done it a lot sooner, you grumpy old b…"

"I said lay off, kid," turned back the Golden Sergeant, trying not to crack up. The masked senorita grinned fondly at the honest soldier before asking, "You seem a hell of a lot happier than I've ever seen you before."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. And that's good."

"Thanks. I _feel_ good. Better than I have been in a long, long time."

"And _keen_, I'd noticed," remarked the masked Tessa. "Particularly over certain rookies you've been training."

"You mean Tomas?" asked Williams. "The kid's outstanding. Got both his head and heart in the right place. Completed his training quicker than the other nineteen-year-olds who enlisted in the army. Wish I had a few more like him under my command."

Facing Tessa, Lionel then asked, "How are you holding up anyway? Your ribs, the wound to your abdomen?"

"I feel great, thanks," smiled the Queen. "Been six weeks since it happened. Long gotten over it. Fit as a fiddle, that's me."

"_You_ _also_ seem happier than I've ever seen you before," nodded the Golden Sergeant warmly. The Queen of Swords smiled warmly as she reflected on the blossoming of her relationship with Doctor Helm. They'd chosen to keep their love private. In the eyes of the public, they were still nothing more than acquaintances. Neither wanted to do anything to make Montoya suspicious. But behind closed doors, where there was no need for disguises or pretences, it was like a dream that had finally become reality. The dinners, the quiet peaceful (private) rides out in the country, simple time together and of course, Senorita Alvarado bothering the Doctor with false/minor ailments (such as gunshot wounds and broken ribs) and the Queen and Helm still being 'forced' together in life-and-death situations.

Things had obviously changed, yet they still remained the same.

Looking back to her friend, the Queen of Swords smiled to confirm, "And with plenty of good reason."

"Good," said Lionel, happy for the kid. He then changed the subject, "Now, as you've heard, the Spanish Ambassador is arriving in Santa Helena tomorrow."

"I can't say I'm looking forward to that," the masked senorita confessed anxiously, scratching her head. "You see, the _last_ time an ambassador from Spain came over…"

"I've read the reports, I've read Wellesley's stories," interrupted Williams, groaning. "_Please_ say no more."

"He invited _himself_ into my house," persisted the Avenging Angel, still annoyed over the deceased Ramirez's actions. "He slept in my bed, ate my food, drank my wine…"

"Seriously?"

"Made several passes at me _and_ Marta, was rude to us both, tried to kill me, locked Marta and too many innocents in a cage to get to me…"

"Easy, girl! Easy!" calmed the Golden Sergeant, not wanting to hear anymore of the bastard Ramirez's evil antics. "This one is different, I _assure_ you."

"Different how?"

"Well for starters, he's married."

"You know him personally?"

"Never had the pleasure," explained Lionel. "But I know a few things about him. Fell into favour with the King, several months back. As politicians go, this one actually seems alright. Campaigned for support to help those whose lives were damaged by the Napoleonic Wars, made a success of that. And focused on weeding out corruption from the Spanish army soon after. Able to survive quite a few assassination attempts from what I gathered."

"So he's as honest as they come then?" asked the Queen, raising an uncertain eyebrow.

"Well it was _his_ idea to persuade the Royal Court to properly investigate the reports of corruption in California. That's one of the reasons why my request for a transfer to Santa Helena was granted, because it all tied in nicely with the Ambassador's proposal. And Montoya's request for additional troops."

"But you don't know him _personally_?" asked the concerned vigilante.

"Will do this time tomorrow, I guess," shrugged the honest soldier. "When he hears the reports from me personally over all the great progress we've made these last few months. And the…respectful protests from Montoya over what the fight against crime _should_ be."

"What a surprise," smirked the masked Tessa, rolling her eyes upward. "Is Edward Wellesley coming this time?"

"NO." The sergeant's answer was hostile, instant, resolute and made the Queen's smile even more amused.

"Shame in a way," she admitted thoughtfully and admiringly. "Thanks to him, I've gotten really good press with the people back in Spain. He sent me and Marta copies of his chronicles a few months after he left with Ramirez's belongings. Really did me justice. Did I ever tell you of the story when he came back to do another write-up on me? And I saved his life from El Scorpio?"

"Let me guess," groaned Williams, really not wanting to talk about the annoying British journalist, "was it six months before I arrived in California?"

"So you _did _read all of Theresa's collection of stories when you were investigating me!"

"Please spare me details I already know."

"Aw, how come you don't like journalists?" asked an innocent vigilante, sympathetically.

"I just _don't_, alright?" stared the honest soldier, making his tiredness over the discussion painfully visible. Tessa still retained her radiant grin, eventually making Lionel regain his. He was very thankful to this mask for making him smile again, and Tessa likewise was thankful for befriending a soldier who was on her side.

"_Anyway_, I've gotta get back," said Lionel turning to leave. "My men'll be wondering where I am."

"I'd best be heading home, too," the Queen agreed, waving over her shoulder. "Give my love to Maria."

"Same to Marta. Thanks again for everything, kid."

"Anytime, old man. See you soon."

And so the two allies and friends parted ways. The Queen of Swords returned to Chico (safely waiting nearby) and then rode off into the night. Lionel regrouped with his men, helping his comrades clean up what was left of the crime scene and quelling queries of his absence with alibis of additional investigation.

But little did he know…that observing him from afar with his spyglass…was a man who had already turned his life upside down.

And was really looking forward to doing it again.

* * *

><p>Colonel Montoya couldn't decide whether he really liked the new Spanish Ambassador…or really hated him.<p>

Needless to say, the whole incident with Ramirez last year was something he'd made sure to forget as quickly as possible. His arrogance and obnoxiousness had truly been loathsome. The way he acted like he owned him and spoke down to him all the time, chastising him for one failure after the next, and having the nerve to try and steal his captain away from him. And his sheer ruthlessness as well, which normally was a trait Montoya admired. But even he wouldn't have gone as far as the ex-Ambassador had done, threatening the people the way he had.

But all the same, Montoya had gotten such enormous satisfaction out of killing him and getting away with it. As well as watching the Queen humiliate the bastard in public and make him writhe like the worm he was. It was one of those _very _rare times when the colonel was actually thankful to his greatest enemy.

Here and now, though…was a much different story.

The governor had read the files on Alberto Enriquez, and knew his history. A politician who had gained favour with the Spanish Court after doing sterling work in helping the lower and middle classes recover from the war. The fact that he'd survived assassination attempts several times meant he was a slippery devil. The fact that he'd actually taken a bullet for the King was admittedly impressive.

But in the eyes of Montoya…he was yet another honest, naive idealist.

_They're spreading like weeds these days,_ thought the colonel to himself. _Bad enough that Williams managed to work his way into a position of prominence…now this infectious madness has spread to the emissary._

Upon his disembarking that morning, Enriquez had acted cordially towards Montoya, shaking his hand and thanking him for greeting his arrival to Santa Helena. He'd respectfully addressed all the people that had been made to receive him and said he was looking forward to his stay and learn more about the community.

When one peasant had shouted, "Viva the Queen of Swords!" at him, Captain Grisham and two of his men had dragged the man out from the crowd and looked as though they were set to arrest him…when Ambassador Enriquez had stepped in and asked Grisham if the man was carrying a weapon or had committed a crime of any kind to merit such abuse or arrest.

"Well…technically no, Ambassador Enriquez…" began Grisham, much to Montoya's seething anger.

"Are you technically some kind of petty-minded little sadist who derives pleasure from oppressing a man for simply having an _opinion_?" Enriquez had asked, eyes narrowed at the captain.

"I…no, sir."

"I'm delighted to _hear that_, Capitan. And I will also be delighted to see you do the logical thing."

Swallowing his pride, Grisham had ordered his men to release the peasant. The ambassador had made the soldiers apologise there and then, then said the man was entitled to his opinion. He'd then secretly whispered to Montoya, "What a disappointing start, colonel. I would've thought a man of your prowess would choose better captains and soldiers than impulsive creatures with half a brain."

On the way back to town, Montoya had secretly vowed to Grisham he'd make him pay for embarrassing them both with that idiotic display, before the colonel and the ambassador rode together in the stagecoach back to town. Enriquez had then admittedly impressed Montoya with his knowledge of the reports of Santa Helena's crime rate, the actions of the deceased Sergeant Pablo and his men, various anecdotes about the Queen of Swords, notorious bandits and murderers, various complaints from Dons over the Colonel's standing, yet the positive work he had done for the community, such as ending threats like The Serpent (Montoya had smiled again over taking the credit for Helm's trophy), and of course all the sterling work achieved by Sergeant Lionel Williams.

_The man clearly knows what he's on about, _noted the governor to himself. _Yet another tricky one. Still, if the cards are played correctly, they'll be no need to kill THIS ambassador._

Here and now, Ambassador Enriquez was standing with Montoya, Grisham and Williams in the Colonel's office. A mutual respect was already there between Williams and Enriquez, given their reputations. Williams had been sure to greet him upon his arrival to the military headquarters, as Enriquez's servants took his luggage to his room at the hotel.

The report of Williams' investigations so far into the fight against crime and corruption had been discussed professionally and to the point. Williams didn't do anything to implicate his superiors, a) because he couldn't without proof and b) he wasn't the kind of petty-minded person to do that.

Montoya had ordered Grisham to keep his mouth shut for the rest of the ambassador's stay. The colonel secretly admired Williams for the way he was handling things, and for that matter, speaking when addressed to do so.

But Montoya would be damned if he was going to let the Golden Sergeant and the ambassador subtly bring about his downfall.

"Ambassador Enriquez," came in the colonel, "with the utmost respect…all this investigation into the corruption here is noble. But at the same time, we are wasting all our resources…essentially _fighting among ourselves_. Surely, these efforts should be more directed at targeting notorious crime on the _outside_."

"You have plainly noted that in your reports to the Royal Court over the last year, Colonel Montoya," Enriquez respectfully reminded. "As had my _predecessor_."

"Yes, but the fact remains that the most notorious crime still roams free in the country. And it constantly threatens our community relentlessly and has yet to be dealt with."

"I agree with you entirely. Less fighting among ourselves and more focus in helping the people is _definitely_ required. Perhaps if our own house was put in order, we would have dealt with these external problems _much sooner_."

"The complications have been well documented to the Spanish government, sir," explained Montoya calmly, determined to wheedle Enriquez round to his way of thinking. "But, with respect to Sergeant Williams, the disobedience of his troops and his arresting of several of my men have put the Santa Helena forces in a perpetual state of mistrust and non-coordination."

"Permission to speak, sir," came in Williams at that point.

"Granted, sergeant," replied Enriquez, who was more inclined for fair hearing on both sides instead of favouritism towards one man.

"I don't deny that this infighting has been counterproductive, but since the arrival of me and my men, the weeding out of the corruption has been both significant and vital to moving onto the apprehension of major criminals like El Scorpio, and finally unmasking and convicting smugglers like Daimio Fernard."

Grisham was trying his hardest to restrain himself. Montoya secretly cast Grisham a reminding look, before calmly stepping in again, "True. But _trust_, Sergeant. Loyalty. Friendship. Cooperation. These words _still_ have value and meaning in Santa Helena. With your actions, you have replaced _half_ of my legion with highly inexperienced reserves, new recruits, and Spanish troops you have handpicked _yourself_. How can this military function harmoniously other than we have only _your_ word?"

_It'll take more than THAT to provoke me into an all-out argument in front of the ambassador, SIR, _thought Lionel secretly, before simply answering, "I've done only as I assured you, Colonel Montoya. I've given you my best work."

"Indeed you have, Williams," said Enriquez, taking the moment to step in before the discussion erupted into heated argument. "I know that I may come across as a hypocrite for saying this – seeing as how it was _my idea_ to send you to Santa Helena – but the colonel _does_ also raise a valid statement with his counterpoints. You're here to investigate _both_ crime and corruption. While I agree that we must deal with this serious issue immediately, I also concede that if it had been dealt with _sooner_…we can move onto our primary concern. Which is serving the people."

Now Montoya _really _couldn't decide if he liked or hated Enriquez. Grisham secretly rolled his eyes upward.

"Ambassador," began the Golden Sergeant, "the fight against corruption, as you know, is an arduous and - at times – costly one. But the results have _already_ spoken for themselves. The notorious criticisms and discussed petitions against Colonel Montoya and the army here have _lessened_ greatly. Scathing protests have now become heartiest congratulations, not just from the people, but from powerful Dons and politicians. And that's only with _half_ of this corruption exorcised. And that has allowed us to apprehend external threats. Our house is _already_ getting in order. People are feeling safer and trusting us more. If they believe in what we are doing so far, we should _listen_ to _them_ and _continue_."

Enriquez studied Williams thoughtfully. Montoya saw this and realised he was losing the edge.

"Ambassador Enriquez, the people do not necessarily know what is best for them. It is because of their blinding adulation for the Queen of Swords that has made them suffer at her hands. Ambassador Ramirez's obsession with her brought about his unfortunate death, and Sergeant Williams' – quite frankly – _sheer refusal_ to apprehend that notorious bandit, as _ordered_, has begotten more…"

"I am perfectly aware of her negative presence, Colonel. If you and the captain could please leave us for a moment?"

Grisham quelled his annoyance again. Montoya looked as though he'd just been slapped in the face. Struggling to raise an innocent smile, the governor asked, "You are…throwing me out of my _own_ office?"

It was now Enriquez's turn to be annoyed as he faced the colonel and patiently said, "I will _not_ ask you _again_, Montoya."

Forced to swallow his pride, the corrupt governor saluted (hiding his frustration), "Of course, sir. Captain."

And they left, with Grisham subtly glaring at Williams on the way out. The Golden Sergeant resisted a smile as the doors closed and the ambassador looked him in the eye with an unreadable expression.

"Your commanding officer is correct, Sergeant," began Enriquez. "The Queen of Swords is a _very _negative presence, that has bought about more harm than good."

Williams remained silent, not wanting to challenge the Ambassador, or do anything to jeopardize his cover.

"But not as the Colonel would like himself and everyone else to believe."

A confused Lionel felt inclined to ask the Spanish Ambassador what he meant. Enriquez smiled a little and explained, "I personally do not approve of vigilante justice, Williams. I _never_ have. As I'm sure you recall, we had _few too many_ bringing about more harm than good in Madrid under Napoleon's dictatorship."

"Indeed, sir," remembered the American, albeit reluctantly.

"The fact that the Queen is _different_ is irrelevant. As is the number of lives she's saved and the crimes she's thwarted. At the end of the day, she remains vigilante. One that unfortunately has been accepted by the peoples of both California _and _Spain. If it was just the lower and middle classes, then it would not be a problem. Unfortunately, the aristocracy have also followed suit it would seem. _Dons_ who are _friends_ of mine, for example.

"The public should not look to _masks_ for hope and heroics. They should be looking to _us_; soldiers, politicians and the Royal Court to keep the people safe. The fact that we seem to have lost their trust and support is saddening. Furthermore, your colonel's unhealthy obsession with the Queen of Swords – and Ramirez's for that matter – has been most counterproductive. Insisting that her elimination is crucial has not only backfired, it has blurred this army's focus, stopping from concentrating on their true task. In my _predecessor_'s case, it was his _downfall_. Self-destruction has no place whatsoever in this line of work."

"Nor does the propaganda of yellow journalism, Mister Ambassador," pointed out Williams, referring to Edward Wellesley. Enriquez stared at the Golden Sergeant for a few seconds before snorting a little laugh, agreeing, "Indeed."

Enriquez clasped his hands behind his back and then declared, "I believe in you, Williams. That's why I overruled Colonel Montoya's initial decision and granted your request to select your own troops for your own platoon. And the results _have_ spoken for themselves. The public likes you, the Dons have become more trusting of the Spanish army here due to your efforts, and crime rates have _sharply_ declined.

"All your remarkable heroics in the war against Napoleon gave us back our country, and for that I thank you. That's why I convinced His Majesty to send you over here to clean up this town and improve our standing in California. And you've done just that. People are happier and feeling safer, which is just what this town, this _country _needs."

"Thank you, sir," nodded Lionel. "What would you have me do next?"

"Continue your excellent work. Make us look good, eliminate this cancerous corruption and crime, and serve the people. As far as the Queen is concerned, _ignore her_. Only step in if _she_ steps out of line. With any luck, she'll be yesterday's news altogether. The Royal Court have agreed with my suggestions, as well as the notion of getting behind you further."

Lionel nodded his thanks again.

"It's _not_ going to be plain sailing, Williams," warned Enriquez. "I've invested a lot of time and money in you. We _all _have. And although our faith may have been justified so far, it is _still_ early days. If you make a mistake, or do anything to make your superiors, me and His Majesty look disgraceful, _you_ will have to answer for it. Do you understand? And it's not just the people who will be out for your blood if you fail. Aristocrats, politicians, soldiers will have you and me hanged along with all those other liars and murderers you've dealt with.

"It will get harder and harder as the fight goes on. It is _all_ on _you_. And you need to look deep within yourself and tell me…_truthfully_…can you _deal_ with that? Yes – or – no?"

Without any hesitation, the Golden Sergeant saluted, "People need protecting and serving, Ambassador Enriquez. _That's_ the only thing that should matter."

"Hmm," mused the powerful Spaniard, impressed. "I _knew _you were the right man for the job."

* * *

><p>"I know who you really are, Tessa Alvarado."<p>

The young senorita, dressed in her white fencing shirt, black gloves, pants and boots, stood protecting her parents' graves, barely a kilometre away from the hacienda, right on top of the cliff overlooking the shores of California.

"At long last…I can kill you and all you care about."

The menace of her opponent's words chilled her more to the bone than the breeze ever could. The senorita raised her weapon and assumed her duelling stance.

"Ready to face the _end_? Your Majesty?"

Tessa silently glared at her opponent ominously for a long moment. Before breaking into a mocking grin and replying, "Sorry. Got a party and a date waiting for me."

Maria, also dressed in her fencing clothes, stood opposite her with her own sabre drawn. She cocked her head to one side, smiling back, "Me too."

"So why don't you just forfeit and let me win by default?" asked Tessa, taunting her friend as they began circling each other. "You'll only lose anyway."

"Chicken!" mocked Maria playfully, before making clucking noises and then singing, "Tessa's a chicken! Tessa's a chicken!"

"Maria!"

Both combatants stopped circling to turn to Marta, who was standing witness to ensure fair play. And more importantly to keep a look out for any visitors who might stumble upon Tessa and Maria playing…and put two-and-two together about the Queen of Swords.

"Play nice," the Gypsy servant sternly warned Mrs Williams, albeit good-naturedly. "Or I'll send you straight home."

"Yes, Marta," said Maria, behaving herself. "Sorry, Marta."

"Same goes to you, Tessa. Or you'll never be allowed to have anyone come play over again."

"Yes, ma'am," nodded the senorita sheepishly.

"Good," nodded the satisfied servant, looking over her shoulder to see that they were still alright to continue. She then turned to see the two swordswomen who resumed circling, and then declared, "Begin!"

Tessa and Maria smiled, both waiting for the other to make their move. It was certainly a nice day for a duelling session. Having practiced alone ever since her return home last year, Tessa had welcomed Maria's request to be her sparring partner in this latest quiet time. For Maria, she was thankful to have the chance to get back into swordplay again. Her life would certainly depend on it once more.

And of course…she'd forgotten how much fun it was.

Maria made the first move with graceful triangles, driving Tessa back. The senorita, skilful as always, twisted her right hand accordingly to block and parry her friend's attacks. Mrs Williams smiled as Senorita Alvarado blocked her final attack and trailed her blade down that of her opponent's, before striking back with her own swordplay.

Both ladies smiled as Tessa took her turn to drive Maria back into the centre of the battleground. However, Tessa had decided to up the ante by moving faster and striking harder, pressing Maria to step up her game as well.

The American feinted a lunge to try and fool the Spaniard. She didn't fall for it, but Tessa did fall for the next thrust which Maria feinted. Left wide open, the unmasked Queen could only watch as the soldier's wife, span on the spot, swinging her sabre upward to knock the rapier out of her opponent's grasp, high into the air.

"Surprised?" beamed Maria, batting her eyelashes and getting the tip of her weapon to Tessa's throat. The aristocrat just grinned and kicked Maria's weapon out of her hand, then mid-air cartwheeled away. The American observed the Spaniard as she gracefully twisted her body - her legs spreading and kicking through the air so agilely - then landed on her feet a safe distance away, held her hand up and caught her rapier perfectly by the hilt.

"Not this time," grinned the young Alvarado, pointing her own weapon and advancing towards the now defenceless Williams.

"Not bad," conceded Maria, nodding.

"So many have said that," smirked Tessa, cocking her head to one side. She was now close enough to force Maria to yield. "Still think you can keep up?"

Maria shrugged, then back-flipped twice to retreat to her sabre on the ground. The American landed on her feet, behind her weapon, then (now in a crouched position) picked up her sword and drew her dagger, pointing both weapons up at her opponent.

"Think I may have a chance, yeah," she smiled, enjoying herself. Tessa then drew her own dagger and assumed a different stance. Both combatants paused again momentarily, allowing the breeze on the cliff to pacify them. Marta remained content and on the lookout.

The sparring partners then reengaged, swinging their primary and secondary weapons with more determination and power. As the blades clashed, the two friends enjoyed themselves, amidst the grunting and fast action. Maria was enjoying the chance to flex her muscles like this again, remembering what Lionel had taught her and all the fun she'd had with her brothers back in America so long ago.

_Why should any noblewoman just be content to do what's expected of them?_ thought Mrs Williams happily in the calm of the sparring session. _We're all equal in God's eyes. And this is just so much more fun!_

_I'd forgotten just how much I enjoyed doing this back in Madrid,_ thought Tessa as she parried Maria's overhead swing and parried the dagger away from her. _Before embracing my destiny. Thought I'd never get a chance to spar with someone like this. Just with someone for the sake of fun._

"Who did you say your teacher was again?" asked Maria, as they stopped striking to grapple their weapons.

"Senor Torres," smiled Tessa through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, I'd heard of him," gnarled Maria back, smiling. "From _somewhere_."

"Just shows your ignorance," the senorita taunted playfully. "He's the _best_."

"'The best', she says," laughed the soldier's wife. "I _married_ the best."

"Blind favouritism," sighed Tessa, as they forced each other away. The unmasked Queen twirled her weapons round her body as she paced towards Mrs Williams, who blocked accordingly.

"I _beat_ my teacher on graduation day," said Tessa proudly, during the next stand-off. "Didn't you ever beat _yours_?"

"Didn't need to," shrugged Maria, blissfully. "All our bouts ended in a draw."

"A _draw_?"

"We squabbled, we fought…then kissed and made up."

"Cheap way out."

"Says the gal who was told staying alive is the most important thing."

"True," shrugged Tessa, before she and Maria went at it again. They duelled for a few more seconds before Alvarado used Williams' own momentum to spin her round…and kick her hard in the back.

"Ow!" cried Maria as she rolled with the kick and recovered onto her feet. "You said no hitting!"

"And you were dumb enough to _believe_ me?" asked the noblewoman innocently as she resumed her attack. Maria then caught Tessa's weapons, forced her arms onto the ground, then shifted to the side and kneed her sharply in the stomach, enough to make her lose her hold on her blades. Maria then smiled and booted her friend onto her back, placing her foot onto Tessa's shoulder, pinning her down.

"Never ever," the housewife said.

"Marta! She's cheating!"

"Tessa started it!"

The Gypsy servant turned her head back round to face them both, apologising, "I had to keep a look out. What happened?"

Somehow, neither Tessa or Maria believed her. But while the American was distracted, the Spaniard took the opportunity to sweep Maria's legs and make her fall to the ground.

"Thanks, Marta!" shouted the senorita, mounting on top of the housewife and reaching out for the dagger nearby.

"Now you're cheating!" laughed Mrs Williams as she tried to throw Tessa off her. She just held on and the two started safely rolling towards Marta's feet, hitting each other while tumbling.

"That's enough!" said Marta, trying to put on a serious face as they stopped rolling and burst into hysterics. "You're both acting like children! You're grown women, the pair of you! And you should be ashamed!"

Tessa and Maria just couldn't stop laughing as they helped each other to their feet.

"Draw?" asked Maria, settling down.

"Draw," agreed Tessa, nodding her head. "Kill you next time."

"Not if I kill you first."

A smiling Marta shook her head at the two of them, and served up the tray of refreshments, as they took off their gloves and used the bowl of water to wash their hands and faces. They then dried themselves with the towels Marta had brought as the Gypsy gathered the swords and daggers together to wrap up in the special covering blanket.

Tessa and Maria, both with a glass of lemonade, were about to drink when suddenly…

"HELLO?"

The two friends looked to each other and Marta, shock seizing them all.

"TESSA! MARTA!" cried out the cheerful voice from below, on the hacienda grounds. "WHERE ARE YOU?"

"Vera," recognised Maria in horror.

"Why does she always just barge in like this at the _worst_ time?" seethed Tessa in annoyance. Turning to her servant, she ordered, "Marta! Gather the swords together and put them back in the secret room! Bring the refreshments to the kitchen! Then come into the front room and drop the tray in surprise and alarm when you see us!"

"Si, senorita!" hurried Marta as she finished gathered all the together weapons and tying them up in the blanket.

"Come on, Maria! We've got to head Vera off!"

"How about I convinced you to go on a run outside with me?" the American suggested as they darted down the hill to quickly get back to the house. "Plenty of exercise and fresh air! Come on, Tessa! It'll be fun and rewarding, I said!"

"Fine! Just remember, you laugh and enjoy! I complain, then faint from over-exertion!"

They allowed themselves a quick laugh as they made it to the back of the hacienda and prepared to fool Vera.

* * *

><p>WANT TO KNOW A SECRET ABOUT 'LIONEL WILLIAMS'? COME ALONE TO WHAT'S LEFT OF THE OLD MINE AT 10 'o' CLOCK TONIGHT…AND FIND OUT.<p>

Montoya looked again at the note his maid had given him shortly after being told to leave his own office. An anonymous message, one that would – and _should_ – normally be dismissed without hesitation.

Except that this letter had come with a gift.

A soldier's badge of honour, representing the _American _army no less.

The fact that the writer had enclosed Williams' name with quote marks was curious indeed. As was the fact that the writer had specified to meet him at the ruins of the Old Mine. Only Montoya and his lackeys, the Queen and Doctor Helm and the slaves present had known about the mine's 'unofficial' existence and the illegal goings-on. So whoever had the nerve to summon him like this…was smart enough to know who and what he was dealing with.

And he also knew of the colonel's dilemma. Sergeant Williams' prominence and mission had grown from annoying to threatening. The thwarting of the deal with Fernard had been costly, but the real issue was so many of Montoya's soldiers that had been put away and replaced. If it was just the rest of Williams' loyal idealists, or the naïve green rookies, it wouldn't too much of a problem. But incredibly, those who had followed Montoya and Grisham for years without question, were now being infected by the Golden Sergeant's crusade. Some were considering turning or had turned already, despite the dire threats the Colonel and the Captain had given.

Half of the garrison were now loyal to Williams, and the Royal Court were getting behind him now as well, creating a real power struggle. The Williams family were still under political protection as well, stopping Montoya from simply killing them. Montoya knew he had to do _something_ to stop this madness before it spread completely and spelt his end.

"Such a shame, isn't it?" came a rough American accent. The governor blinked his eyes and calmly turned round to face his summon with a smile, as the newcomer tutted, "Loved to have seen what this place would've been like back in its heyday, Colonel. All that gold on the verge of being unearthed. And then…boom. Just before the finish line."

Montoya grinned sinisterly as he drew his pistol at the stranger, "You have a minute to convince me not to kill you, my friend. I strongly recommend you make the most of it."

The American snorted a laugh. He looked like he came from the wrong side of the Earth, or his mother's womb in Montoya's eye. He had a short, grizzly brown beard and several teeth missing. He had a horrible black eye on his left, and a pupil-less one for his right, marked by a vicious scar. Despite his appearance – scruffy, outlaw clothing and a body odour problem – he looked in fighting shape, with his strong build and menacing demeanour.

Undeterred by Montoya's threat, the stranger smirked, "Heard about Daimio Fernard finally being put outta business. That must have been a bit of a pisser when it happened, eh? I should know. I was there to see it."

"You obviously know much, my nameless friend. Perhaps more than is good for you. Thirty seconds."

"You came _alone_?" the stranger asked, folding his arms.

"Of course," nodded the governor, as though he'd been asked a stupid question.

"I'm _insulted_, Montoya. I expected _better_."

At that moment, twenty-five bandits emerged from the rocks and shadows, all cocking their rifles and pistols and targeting the colonel from every possible vantage point, high and low. Their leader snorted another laugh and then spat on the ground, before drawing his own pistol and pointing it at the colonel, who wasn't in the least bit surprised over this turn of events.

"Want to know the reason why you're still alive?" sniggered the stranger.

"I _already_ know," explained the still-smiling governor. "I already know what the words _'come alone'_ mean."

Now it was the turn of the soldiers to spring out from their _hiding_ places, pointing their weapons at the mysterious outlaw and all his following, covering them in positions to blow them away one by one. The bandits then changed their own positions to target their own soldier.

"Whenever one says 'come alone'," explained Montoya, pistol still raised as he approached the stranger, "that _always_ means you bring weapons and reinforcements. Because you can believe that the inviter would _never_ be stupid enough to honour such stipulations."

As Captain Grisham appeared from behind, he pointed his pistol to the outlaw's head. Exactly as the criminal drew a second pistol and pointed over his shoulder to Grisham's face. The captain just raised an eyebrow, as the American outlaw smirked again.

"Expect better, you get it," nodded the stranger at the equally respectful Montoya. They both looked around to see both sides poised to kill each other and then laughed together, lowering their weapons.

"I think you've convinced me of your worth in spectacular fashion," nodded the colonel, signalling for Grisham and his men to put their guns down. "Mister…?"

"Conrad," introduced the outlaw, signalling for his own men to lay down their arms. "Malcolm Conrad. Straight to business. I know enough about you, Colonel. Your reputation _precedes_ you. And for the record, I'm deeply honoured."

"Flattery _can _get you everywhere, Mister Conrad," nodded Montoya amicably as they shook hands. "So long as it comes with _accompaniments_. And compensation for daring to call me all the way out here in the chilling wind."

"You look as though you can _deal_ with it."

"True…but I do not have to _like_ it. Or the mere idea of being summoned in this fashion, by someone who knows too much. I am not known for granting private audiences to outlaws. And _American_ ones at that."

"I always knew you Spanish were such ass-clowns," scoffed Conrad, mockingly. "Had no idea you were _this_ full of s…"

"Are we getting to the point tonight or should we just kill each other?" asked the governor, looking at his fingers. Conrad smirked again, amused and impressed, before nodding his agreement.

"I know _enough_ about you, Montoya. And I don't _need_ evidence to know what you're really like. And you know that I'm not afraid to give my name, so ergo…I'm not afraid to die. We've both got equal bodies of men. As has…'Lionel Williams'."

"We are both perfectly aware of that, my friend. The quote marks used in referring to the Golden Sergeant obviously imply you know something that's worth my time. And that there is no love lost between you both whatsoever. You seek to join forces with me. While a proposition could be worth my while given the current crisis I face…my question to you is 'why'?"

Conrad slowly took some documents out of his coat pocket and handed it to the colonel. Grisham studied the outlaw menacingly, not trusting him at all as Montoya took the documents, and unfolded them to begin reading.

They were official reports belonging to the American army, dating back to 1807. The Colonel didn't bother to ask Conrad how he acquired this information, seeing it as an irrelevant question. The governor spent the next few moments reading the reports…and then slowly looked back up to the American outlaw, who raised and lowered his eyebrows in delight.

"More than worth your time, Montoya. I think you'll agree."

"Indeed so…" nodded the colonel, chuckling softly and evilly. "Poor, unfortunate, little Malcolm."

"Do you want to review those one more time before submitting to the ambassador?"

"No, no…I think these revisions are suitable enough. And the information already speaks for itself. Now, then…shall we get down to business? _Properly_?"


	2. Ghosts

_Disclaimer: Queen of Swords was created by Fireworks Entertainment, and is owned by ContentFilm. This story is NOT affiliated with the rights holders or the show's original creators. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made. This story is for entertainment purposes only._

_The author would like to thank Robert Vincent for all his valuable support and input._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11: Ghosts<strong>

It was now ten to two in the afternoon. Montoya was hosting a social gathering in his Rose Courtyard. He'd insisted on an official party to welcome Ambassador Enriquez to Santa Helena. Enriquez had told the Colonel that while he'd appreciated the gesture, it wasn't necessary. The governor gently persisted, saying that after such a long journey, and a day of seeing all the work of the Spanish forces situated in California, the ambassador could surely recognise the time for tranquillity and socialising. Suspecting the Colonel having an ulterior motive (possibly sycophantism to win favour), Enriquez had conceded to attend.

The atmosphere was usual aristocratic socialising. Pompous Dons and their naive wives wining and talking about trivialities, laughing blissfully, scoffing or praising each other's dresses…

All this reminded Lionel just why he couldn't stand these social gatherings. The fact that Montoya hosted at least one every week was frankly overkill to him. As he stood dressed in his best military suit, he looked around him to see too many peacocks, happy or selfish. He also saw some of his men salute him, as well as Grisham's men (stuck on duty) take turns to glare evilly at him, much to his amusement.

"Feel out of place, huh?"

The Golden Sergeant smiled as his wife sporting her black and turquoise dress came up to take him by the arm and 'walk into the fray'.

"Always, dear," he muttered to Maria, as they circulated. "Ever since we came to California, I've felt more and more like a stoat dressed in a handkerchief."

"Oh, shut up, Lionel. You look dashing as always."

"To you."

"And only my opinion should matter," Mrs Williams smiled, planting a kiss on her husband's cheek.

"True," Mr Williams smiled back, rubbing his head slightly against that of his wife.

"Hello, Maria!" waved Vera Hidalgo cheerfully, as she and her husband walked over to the Williams. "Hello, Sergeant!"

"Hello, Vera," the American smiled back warmly. "Hello, Senor Hidalgo."

"Always a pleasure, Mrs Williams," Don Gaspar greeted, gently taking her hand and kissing it. His demeanour then changed when he faced Lionel with an indifferent, "Sergeant."

"Senor," Williams acknowledged. Neither would forget their…'disagreement' during Lionel's investigation of the Queen.

"If you would excuse me, I have some business to discuss with Don Fuentes. Ladies." He then left, casting Williams a brief glance of displeasure. The sergeant just snorted at him before turning to Vera and saying, "Hello, Senora Hidalgo."

"So nice to see you, Sergeant. That's a fabulous dress, Maria."

"Thanks, I…"

"Tessa's here, by the way. She says she's recovered from that run you dragged her out on."

"Well, a bit of fresh air and exercise," explained Maria, sheepishly, "Did wonders for me back in America."

"No offence but are they all that crazy over there? Tessa looked half-dead! It's a miracle we were able to get her to Doctor Helm in time!"

_Hmm, _mused Maria to herself, thinking that Tessa had had that excuse in mind all along to see Robert behind closed doors.

"Honestly, Maria," said Vera in dismay, "you've got to learn to appreciate the nuances of _our_ culture and sophistication more. Didn't your mother ever teach you these things?"

Caught off-guard by the question, Mrs Williams was immediately overcome with pain and sadness. She then abruptly walked away, leaving a confused Vera to ask Lionel if she'd said something wrong. A sympathetic Lionel looked away from his parting wife to gently explain to Vera about Maria's mother passing away when she was only a baby.

In another area of the party, Maria soon regained her smile when she saw Tessa and Marta. Then they saw Don Cascajo de la Calderon and his daughter Carmella rudely shove aside someone just to speak to Ambassador Enriquez. The Ambassador looked like he wasn't taking to their fawning platitudes very well. Tessa and Maria grinned at each other before walking over.

"The Spanish Court should really come over and see all our businesses," insisted Don Cascajo arrogantly. "Why, our holdings would impress his Majesty himself."

"I shall pass that along…" lied Enriquez, bored out of his mind.

"Oh, Ambassador!" swooned Carmella in a nauseating manner. "Never before have we had the honour of meeting royalty!"

"Is it any wonder _why_, Carmella?" asked Tessa and Maria simultaneously, both grinning mockingly at the Don's daughter. Before the angry de la Calderon could protest, Enriquez turned to Maria, overcome with delight and relief.

"Ah! Maria Williams, I presume?"

"Yes, Ambassador Enriquez," she nodded respectfully. The Spaniard shook her hand and said it was an honour to finally meet the wife of the hero of Spain. Carmella looked like she was going to be sick. Cascajo tried to get back into the conversation but Enriquez wasn't listening to him anymore. By the time Marta came over, the de la Calderons could only swallow their pride and retire into a huff.

"I apologise, sir," Maria then said, gesturing towards her friends. "This is Senorita Tessa Alvarado and her servant Marta. Aside from being prominent members of our society, they are great friends of my family."

"Ah, yes," smiled the Ambassador, shaking Tessa's hand. "The Alvarado name is well known back in Spain. Don Alejandro speaks very highly of his niece."

The surprised Senorita could only ask, "You know my uncle?"

"Why, yes, he's a personal friend of mine," Enriquez explained proudly. He then solemnly and respectfully added, "I also had the honour of meeting your father long ago, Tessa. He was a good man. My condolences, I was most saddened to hear of his death."

Genuinely surprised and touched, Tessa smiled gratefully, "Thank you, Ambassador."

"Please, excuse me. I must speak with Sergeant Williams. Ladies."

As he left, the trio of ladies could only marvel at what a remarkable man this new Ambassador was. Marta was impressed that he hadn't attempted to seduce her. Maria was flattered that the Spanish Court held her in the same regard as her husband.

And Tessa was genuinely moved by Enriquez's comments about her uncle, and her father.

"Ladies," greeted an all too familiar voice.

"Ah, Doctor Helm!" greeted Senorita Alvarado cordially. "Thank you so much for saving my life yesterday."

"I think that's an exaggeration, Senorita Alvarado," sighed the Englishman. "Over-exertion and dehydration are commonplace for those who don't know the first thing about exercise."

"Well not all of us have the luxury of your unshared experiences, doctor."

Marta and Maria took the opportunity to leave them be. Everyone else was too busy talking and circulating to pay any attention to them.

"Tessa, you can't keep bothering me like this," whispered the surgeon. "I was in the middle of tending to a patient who _really_ needed my help yesterday."

"Really, Robert," the aristocrat smiled back cheekily. "The damage one can suffer from fainting like that. Vera was really concerned for me."

"_That_ I believe."

The two walked together, speaking at normal tones to fool everyone else into thinking that Tessa was wasting Robert's time as always. Every now and again, though, they reduced their voices to a whisper.

"I hadn't seen you since you gave me a clean bill of health for my injuries last Sunday," confessed Tessa.

"It was only a few days ago," Robert gently pointed out. "And after these last several weeks…"

"Which have been the best weeks of my life."

The Englishman stopped to smile back with sincerity, "Mine as well. And yes, I _did_ appreciate the visit, too. We've just got to be careful. That's all."

"I know," smiled the beautiful Spaniard warmly. "And we will be."

The 'acquaintances' then parted ways, leaving Montoya and Grisham with no reason to be suspicious.

_Strange, _thought Tessa, confused. _I don't see either of them. Where are they?_

"I can't thank you enough, Doctor," said Marta, who had now come over to speak with Robert. "I'm so relieved you came in the nick of time. We're so sorry to have bothered you."

"No bother at all, Marta," dismissed Helm humbly.

Marta then whispered to him, "Another thing to be thankful for over the last month…is someone else to talk with about…well, Tessa's wellbeing. All these happenings in Santa Helena. All these frightening fevers and incidents."

"Likewise. It's a dangerous town. We have to look out for each other. And anytime you need to talk to me about _anything_; problems, remedies, you know where to find me."

"I don't know if my mistress has told you," explained the Gypsy, "but Sergeant Williams apparently arrested Daimio Fernard for notorious smuggling."

"Yes, she couldn't stop going on about it," mused the Doctor. His mood then soured suddenly as he furthered. "Good for the 'Golden Sergeant' to claim a trophy like that."

Marta understood what the Englishman meant, and then respectfully rebutted, "Robert…Lionel would never do anything like that to the Queen. You know that…"

"Of course, I know," interrupted Helm. "I just don't have to like the way he does business. Or him."

Helm turned his attention to the Golden Sergeant, rejoined by his wife and now talking socially with Ambassador Enriquez. Marta noted the doctor's disdain and gently said, "Doctor…we've all seen into the sergeant's heart. You can't deny that he's a good man."

"Can you deny that his heart is obscured by all that blood on his hands?"

"Doctor, that's not fair. We've _all_…"

"Musicians, cease playing!" ordered Montoya, suddenly entering the party with Grisham and several men in tow. The sight of rifles and the colonel's deadly serious demeanour made several of the guests gasp in horror as soldiers approached Williams, who turned to face his commander with concern.

"I said stop the celebrations!" barked the governor with no-nonsense. Tessa looked on with suspicion as her nemesis' latest game unfolded before her eyes. When the atmosphere died down, Montoya ordered Williams to stand to attention.

"Guards, keep your weapons on the sergeant," he ordered, much to Maria's growing anger and Enriquez's surprise.

"What is the meaning of this, Colonel?" demanded the ambassador.

"My apologies, sir, but we have unearthed evidence revealing Lionel Williams to be a murderer and fraud."

"That's absurd!" protested Maria, putting herself between her husband and Montoya. "Lionel has never…!"

"It's alright, Maria," calmed Williams, putting his hand on her shoulder as he came forward to face the accusations. "Colonel, these are most serious allegations. What evidence do you have to support these frankly ludicrous charges?"

"Official military documents," explained the corrupt governor, holding them up for the sergeant and Enriquez to see, "of the United States army, dating back to 1807, when _you_, Lionel Williams, committed several atrocities under the name Conrad, and attempted to murder Malcolm Conrad, who miraculously survived and will testify against you in court."

The audience gasped in shock in alarm. Grisham smirked evilly. Tessa, Marta and Robert looked at each other with bewilderment. Enriquez snatched the documents from the colonel's hand to inspect them himself.

"These reports _are_ official!" exclaimed the ambassador, angrily turning to Williams. "Signatures from the highest authority, seals of approval…dated 27th January 1807!"

"In view of this evidence, Sergeant Williams…" asked Montoya, resisting the urge to smile mockingly, "do you confirm or deny these charges?"

The silence was tense. All eyes in the courtyard were locked on Lionel, waiting for what he had to say in his defence. Some expected an angry denial, or a shamed confession, or maybe fight his way out of the predicament. Maria's face gave nothing away except loyalty to her husband.

Eventually, a stone-faced Lionel Williams simply answered, "I choose my right to remain silent. I will answer these charges under questioning and in court. With an attorney at my side."

"Ah!" reacted Colonel Montoya, smiling condescendingly. "How professional. For all the good it will do you in light of your insidious crimes. Capitan Grisham, place Sergeant Williams under arrest for attempted murder and corruption."

"My pleasure, sir," smiled Grisham with delight. Two of his men grabbed Williams and escorted him away, with Grisham whispering in Lionel's ears, "How the mighty have fallen, eh, Golden Boy?" The rest of the audience gasped and nattered away, a mixture of shock, disbelief and smug satisfaction.

As Williams was taken away, Montoya and Enriquez left also, to further go over the 'evidence' together. Tessa's eyes narrowed in anger over the Colonel's latest cruel scheme. When the aristocrat turned back to comfort Maria, she noticed that her friend's brave face had slipped.

To show a private face full of fear and confusion.

That was now thinking, _It CAN'T be Malcolm. We SAW him die!_

* * *

><p>An hour later, Lionel sat all cold and alone in his cell, still feeling the effects of Grisham beating him back and forth upon throwing him in the cell for 'resisting arrest'. The other guards – Montoya loyalists only – looking the other way (smiling) as the captain of the guard repaid the honest soldier for the dislocated shoulder, humiliating him in front of his own men and Montoya and generally getting under his skin.<p>

Any chance of Lionel fighting back was squandered when more guards came in to remind him the cost of assaulting a superior officer.

But Williams had just taken it all, not in the least bit bothered about Grisham and his men. Let them have their fun.

All the Golden Sergeant could think about…was Maria, what she must be going through right now because of Montoya's latest game. And the name the colonel had uttered…one that Williams had made sure to forget.

_How the hell does Montoya know about Malcolm? _he asked himself, scared. _And how did he get those documents? They've obviously been doctored! I didn't set anyone up, that's a lie! But everything else was as official as it comes! There's only one person I knew who could…!_

Lionel really didn't want to remember any of this. He didn't want to remember America…all those years ago.

"_Let her go, Malcolm!"_

"_She's mine, Andrew! Like she always should've been! And like she's going to be as we go to hell together! And you can't stop me because if you kill me, she'll die with me!"_

"_I LOVED you, you piece of…!"_

"_Shut up, you little bitch!"_

"_Elizabeth, don't!"_

"_Arrgh!"_

…

…

Lionel clasped his hands on the top of his head, struggling to quell the pain of what happened.

_It's a ruse. I don't how he's doing it but it's another of Montoya's damn ruses! It's got to be!_

The sound of slow, deliberate footsteps send an almost paralysing chill down Lionel's spine. He dared to look up to see a face that had changed so much…

Yet hauntingly remained the same.

The scar down his blinded eye. His missing teeth.

"Oh, that Grisham must really like you!" laughed the stranger, as his smile (wide as death) sprouted evilly at Lionel, "Not surprising…when _everyone_ wants a piece of you. Don't they…_brother_?"

An enraged Lionel shot up from his bunk and lunged for the outlaw's throat. The cell bars naturally stopped him, as the criminal backed off, wagged his finger in 'naughty-naughty' fashion and sniggered again at him.

"You're no brother of mine, you evil, little freak," snarled Williams venomously.

"Aw, I don't know what hurts more! The fact that your tongue remains as viper-like as ever…or the fact that you've _genuinely_ forgotten me…'Lionel'."

"It's not possible," denied the Golden Sergeant angrily, over the man he was now speaking to. "I had you hanged! We were _both_ there!"

"Oh, _please_!" spat the insulted outlaw. "You should've escorted me from my cell to the gallows. Did you honestly think I had no means of arranging my escape in-between? And paying off guards to put a dead ringer in my place? Hmm?"

Williams tightened his grip on the bars and gritted angrily (in begrudging acceptance), "Malcolm…"

"Yes," he grinned evilly again, showcasing his missing teeth.

"What hurts more?" asked Lionel cruelly. "The fact that you didn't go to the dentist? Or when she made you cry like a bitch after poking your eye out?"

"On the contrary…I _loved_ that. A little premonition of how much fun she and I were destined to have. And what we're going to have."

"Touch her again and I'll execute you _myself_ this time."

"My! You _have_ changed, haven't you, 'Lionel'? All bleeding heart, goody-two-shoes become so cold and unfeeling. And treacherous and self-serving."

"I'm nothing like you, _traitor_," sneered the Golden Sergeant.

"No?" mocked Malcolm innocently. "Arresting and trying to kill the only family you have left? Condemning auntie and uncle to death when you served Napoleon? Changing your name to dishonour mommy and daddy and run from the ilk that took their lives?"

"I atoned for all that! You on the other hand seemed quite happy to continue murdering and pillaging just for the hell of it! How one-dimensional can you get?"

"And that's why you're a _loser_, big brother. Compassion is for babies. How much money did those bandits make off with when they killed our parents, eh? Enough to buy land, houses and power. Once I got over the initial shock, I realised 'good riddance'! All they _ever_ did was shout and cane me. Fat lot of good their precious love did them when they _begged_ for their lives."

Appalled and enraged over that callous remark of their parents, Lionel slammed himself against the bars and reached for Malcolm's throat, who just shook his head and called him pathetic.

"Still crying over them? Good. That can torture you as you sit there waiting to die trying to escape. Well, that's what's going to _officially_ happen. After your band of idealists get implicated for being your accomplices, my men will replace yours in Montoya's ranks. I become a hero, you become the villain. The salary, the lady, the prominence and power…all becomes mine. Just as it _should_ have been."

Malcolm then taunted over his shoulder, "An eye for an eye, brother. I'm sure _Elizabeth_ will be looking forward to learning that lesson."

Malcolm's departing laugh echoed throughout the jail. Tormenting Lionel so much more, as he rested his head against the bars.

* * *

><p>"Mrs Williams, I can understand that you are distraught but the <em>facts<em>…"

"And whose 'facts' _are_ these, may I ask?" Maria challenged, raising her eyebrows. "Are they _really _Malcolm Conrad's? Or someone else's?"

"The man who has testified against your husband has official credentials of the American army. And genuine reports validating both his identity and claims…"

"I think you mean _falsified documentation_, Colonel."

Montoya was secretly enjoying making Williams' wife boil with frustration, as he calmly replied, "Mrs Williams, I fear that you are letting your love for 'Lionel' – assuming that is his real name…

Maria remained stone-faced, refusing to react to Montoya's baiting.

"Blind you to the truth…that you have married a notorious criminal."

"We gave reports of what actually happened to Lionel's superiors back in America. We both witnessed Malcolm Conrad's hanging, and all that was officially logged in Lionel's military file, read by the Spanish Court _and _you, Colonel. You've _already_ had our statements. Conrad was executed for trying to kill us, along with his other crimes. This was accepted and long since resolved. So why is it being brought up now to make my husband look like the guilty party?"

"The documents that Malcolm Conrad gave to us show evidence of doctoring on your husband's part."

"That's ludicrous!" snapped Maria angrily, remembering perfectly how Malcolm worked. "Let me see this so-called 'evidence'!"

'With respect, Mrs Williams," soothed the governor condescendingly, "you have no political power, no military knowledge or _any_ authority whatsoever…you are not even a member of the _aristocracy_, having only gained favour the _easy way_ by marrying this pretender."

Maria's eyes narrowed coldly at the corrupt colonel, who smiled with a subtle mix of soothing and mocking, as he continued, "Therefore, the classified evidence can only be viewed by those with _authority_, such as myself and Ambassador Enriquez. As for your demands to see the witness and your husband; out of the question. Senor Conrad is under strict witness protection, and Sergeant Williams is imprisoned awaiting trial, due to his crimes. No bail, no visits. And that is the way it is."

"Really?" questioned Maria simply, keeping her cool as she answered back. "I don't _believe_ you. I think all this is just another tawdry little game of yours to get thirty more pieces of silver."

"Believe what you wish…" said the Colonel, approaching the soldier's wife and looking down on her, "but _that_ is the way it _is_. And _that_ is the _end_ of it."

"The hell it is," challenged Mrs Williams resolutely, again retaining her composure. "Not while I'm still breathing."

"I'd advise you to choose your words – and _battles _- most carefully, my dear," warned the colonel, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "The _consequences _of such…"

Maria grabbed Montoya's wrist before he could touch her shoulder, and squeezed and twisted it just enough so that the colonel could feel her strength and capability.

"_My_ word of advice?" warned the American woman in return, "_Don't_."

The colonel raised an eyebrow at her, as she kept her grip a few seconds longer and then let go. Montoya noted her strength as matching that of a potential _killer_. And he smiled slyly as Maria left his office, closing the doors behind her.

"I will be _sure_ to keep that in mind for _future reference_…'Mrs Williams'.

* * *

><p>The moment the American woman had left the building, her brave face had dropped. She walked into the town square looking most distressed. She refused to believe that Malcolm was really alive, after all these <em>years<em>. The man who had claimed to love her as much as Lionel, who had really been toying with her out of cruelty. Maria remembered that horrible day when the truth finally came out, then the loss of her father and the Williams' moving to Spain.

She was haunted by it all, and the fact that Lionel was now in jail and in grave danger. To further add to her torment, she'd had the misfortune of bumping into the sexual predator himself, Captain Grisham, as she walked down the terrace corridor on her way out. Grisham had offered false apologies for her unfortunate situation and if she ever needed a shoulder to cry on, he would be there for her.

Maria had tried not to throw up over his uniform, and instead sweetly replied, "No, thank you," before trying to walk off. Grisham (who knew he could make his move now Williams was rotting in jail) had persisted in his 'subtle' attempts to seduce her, with Maria again falsely smiling and saying, "Flattered, Captain. But no thanks."

"What's the matter?" grinned the disgusting animal. "Afraid I'm gonna bite?"

"No," she smiled back sweetly, saying over her shoulder. "I just don't like misogynists."

That had left Grisham feeling very taken aback and Maria all the more angry.

"Miserable, disgusting, worm-eating pig!" she muttered to herself, looking about ready to cry.

"Maria!" called Tessa, walking fast from the rose courtyard over to her. The Spaniard gently grabbed the American's to comfort her and asked, "Are you alright?"

"No, I'm not!" shouted the housewife, angrily wrenching her arm out of the aristocrat's grasp. Maria exhaled shakily and ran her hand through her hair, worried out of her mind.

"I'm sorry," the American apologised, turning back to her friend. "I'm scared and I'm angry."

"I can speak with Montoya. Vega and Ricardo have already…"

"Fat lot of good that's gonna do! Montoya won't let _anyone_ see Lionel! He's made it an open-shut-case! No bails! No appeals! He's playing his cards so close to his chest that…!"

"He can't do that," said Tessa. "Lionel has rights. Even Montoya can't…"

"Ambassador Enriquez took away all of his rights! Stripped him of his authority, his connections! Montoya deceived him, just like…!"

"Maria, calm down," soothed Senorita Alvarado. "What _exactly _is going on? Who's 'Malcolm Conrad'? Why does Montoya claim that your husband used a false name and was corrupt? And why didn't Lionel decline to comment against the charges?"

Mrs Williams stared and gaped at the aristocrat momentarily before angrily asking, "You don't _honestly_ believe that Lionel's _guilty_, do you?"

A frustrated Tessa vehemently replied, "Of course I don't! You think I don't know better than to buy Montoya's lies?"

"Lionel may be an asshole at times," admitted Maria truthfully, "but he is _never_ a criminal!"

"You're preaching to the converted, Maria! I _know_ Lionel Williams! He's an honest soldier and a very good man!"

Maria sighed anxiously and looked away from Tessa, breathing in deep before confessing, "_Lionel Williams_, you may know…"

The senorita's eyes narrowed, focusing on the housewife's cryptic comment and asked intently, "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"It's a long story."

"Then _tell me_. As _we_ told _you_."

Maria looked back at Tessa, remembering that day when he and Lionel had been taken in to her complete confidence and told the truth about her dual identity as the Queen of Swords. A day that had meant so much to all involved.

Mrs Williams paused. She knew she could tell Senorita Alvarado. They trusted each other implicitly.

"Look," began Maria earnestly, "I need a favour."

"Of course," assured Tessa, patting Maria's shoulder.

"It's almost three 'o' clock, Theresa's going to be coming out of school soon. Is it okay if you and Marta pick her up? And can she stay with you for a few hours?"

"You know she's always welcome at the hacienda. But what are you going to do?"

"I've _got_ to get home," explained the soldier's wife. "Whatever Montoya's planning, it's bad. I don't want to bring my daughter home to yet another kidnapping committee, just in case there is one."

"Well, what do you want us to _tell_ her?"

"Tell her what's going on. She's got a right to know."

"Maria, do you really think…?"

"She's a brave little girl with a brain, Tessa," she said with certainty. "If she can handle being abducted by a murdering psycho – _and_ being saved by her _hero_ – she can deal with this."

"Alright," agreed the Spaniard. "I'll find Marta and we'll go to the school. What are _you_ going to do?"

"I haven't a clue," groaned the American, scratching her head for an idea. "Montoya mentioned…official military reports from the U.S. that somehow proved Lionel was corrupt."

"They were good enough to fool Enriquez," Tessa pointed out.

"Maybe, but Lionel kept official copies of the _real _report of what happened, with testimony from Lionel's superiors, fellows and key witnesses. If I can find those, I can clear his name."

"That's just the kind of thing Montoya will be _expecting_ you to do," warned the aristocrat.

"I know," agreed the soldier's wife, "but I've got no choice. Look, I'll tell you the whole story later, I promise. Right now, I've _got_ to get back home. I'll come over to the hacienda as soon as I can. Tell Theresa I love her."

"Don't do anything stupid, Maria," ordered a concerned Tessa.

"Who can afford to?" asked Maria, rhetorically. "I'll see you later."

"Not if I see you _first_," vowed the secret Queen as they parted ways

"I'd appreciate that, Tessa," her friend gratefully acknowledged.

* * *

><p><em>Traitor.<em>

A horrible, little word that meant so much negativity.

Lionel sat in his cell, remembering calling Malcolm a traitor and feeling justified for doing so. Betraying family, the woman he claimed to love and everything else he once served and protected.

But Conrad's own words had hit Williams even harder, saying he was no better than him.

And he was _right_.

Williams could give reasons all day long, but the facts remained facts. The soldier _had_ arrested his brother-in-arms without any hesitation or remorse. He _had_ turned his back on his own family name by changing it…

And he _had_ condemned both his aunt and uncle to execution.

Uncle Joe and Aunt Elena…among the sweetest people mankind had ever produced. Strong, capable and compassionate, denied the chance to have children of their own, and there for Lionel to save him after the devastating loss of his parents.

All those years they raised Lionel and loved him like he was truly their own. Williams smiled warmly, remembering all the best times they'd had together, before Lionel had finished school and decided to return to America and enlist in the army with Malcolm.

Then after Lionel and Maria had been forced to flee to Spain, Joe and Elena had saved him a second time, giving him a home for himself once more, along with his new family.

And it would've ended happily ever after…if not for Napoleon. Lionel remembered being given that conscription notice, ordering him to defend Spain from the French invaders. Lionel remembered fighting valiantly to defend his new home, all he had left from the enemy, but he and his comrades ultimately failed. Lionel remembered that fateful day ten years ago (in 1808) in the early days of the Peninsular War, when Bonaparte himself had invaded Madrid and crushed the opposition, forcing the capital to surrender.

Out of all the resistance the dictator had executed, he'd chosen to spare the American, more impressed with how he fought than anyone. And keen to coerce him into joining his side.

Here and now in his cell, Lionel could only cry as he remembered when his family had been arrested and brought before him. With the French making him choose; be executed along with his aunt and uncle as 'traitors'…or live with his wife under Napoleon authority.

The choice would never ever stop haunting him.

Nor the sight of that burly executioner…wearing that horrible black mask, frightening Lionel just as much as the ones that had robbed his parents' lives. Williams grimaced in his cell as he remembered Joe and Elena's brave faces, contently telling their nephew…no, their adoptive son that everything was going to be okay…

As Maria discreetly wept and squeezed his hand so tightly.

And Napoleon and Joseph reminding him what would happen if he opposed him…

As that horrible masked man pulled the trapdoor lever, and the final sounds of Joe and Elena. Choking. Lionel's mind flashed back to the present. He allowed himself another moment to mourn, to reflect on the…'lesser of two evils' he'd been made to choose, to damn himself for his unwilling betrayals…then he cursed himself to snap out of it.

_I'm not gonna let it happen all over again, _the Golden Sergeant vowed angrily. _It'll be a cold day in hell before I let Malcolm…and Montoya win. Now, if Malcolm knows everything that happened…that means he must've been stalking us our whole lives. Don't care how, don't care why…but he knows practically everything, otherwise he wouldn't have tracked us to Santa Helena._

_But that must means he also knows about Theresa! All our friends!_

The realisation that Malcolm and Montoya could kill them all sunk in slowly and painfully. And they were going to make him sit in the cold, damp jail and boil it all over. Completely powerless.

"Over my dead ass, you animals," he sneered venomously, sitting up off the bunk and walking over to the prison bars. Clutching them tightly he began to shake and bang them vigorously to get the guard's attention.

"Hey, Manuel!" Williams barked. "I asked for my lawyer hours ago! Where the hell is he?"

"Shut up, Golden Boy!" snapped the annoyed corporal from the lobby, before turning back to his reading.

"What's the book you're reading?" the Sergeant mocked. "How not to be stupid? Which insults are best? I don't know what's more pitiful; a man who's vainly trying to please Montoya or a man who believes scratching and sitting on his ass is the best way to do it."

As expected, Manuel rose to the provocation, angrily closing his book and slamming it down. He removed his legs from the desk, stood up and walked to the cells. Lionel smirked at Montoya's stooge as he drew his pistol and stepped up close to the bars.

"Ooooh! He's got his gun out! Desperately trying to hide the fact that he's nothing more than a pussy."

"I've been looking forward to this for a long time, you…"

"For a man who's trying to be smart," noted Williams, "killing a harmless man locked in a cell is a sure-fire way to convict yourself."

"I'm inclined to think you got out, tried to shoot me and I killed you in self-defence," replied Manuel, smirking slyly. "After all, the Colonel says that was what was gonna happen sooner or…"

Williams then thrust his arm out, grabbing the surprised Manuel by his shirt and yanking him hard, face-first into the bars. Lionel then stuck his other hand through the bars to snatch the keys from the guard's belt as he fell to the floor, unconscious.

"Congratulations, you dumb-ass," remarked the American, twirling the keys on his index finger from his side of the bars. "You're finally learning."

* * *

><p>"As you can see, Theresa," explained Marta as she drew the card and placed it down on the table, "your parents are naturally…The Lovers. Two soul mates who have experienced much…yet still have much to learn."<p>

Theresa sat opposite the Gypsy, nodding tentatively over the situation, yet keenly paying attention as Marta slowly drew the next card from the deck. The servant's eyes narrowed in disdain at the image, before placing it next to the Lovers card.

"The Devil. The haunting spectre who never went away…usurping the calm with his relentless chaos."

"Why is he such a bad man, Marta?" asked the seven-year-old girl, nervously. The servant looked at the child intently before answering, "I do not know, other than he simply is. That's why men like your father exist. To stop them."

"But my dad didn't do anything wrong!" protested Theresa, looking as though she was about to burst into tears. "Why's he in jail? And what if my mommy gets hurt trying to save him?"

The Queen of Swords carefully crept from the doorway's vantage point to see Marta trying to comfort the girl. The masked Tessa remained unseen, eyes narrowed angrily over Theresa's anguish as the Gypsy explained, "There are horrible things out there, Theresa. Things that will mean you and everyone else such harm. But that is why you have to be brave and clever and believing. Brave and clever enough to save the day, like your _heroes_."

Theresa looked down, thinking about her dad, her mom, and the Queen. And then nodded back at Marta, determined to be big and strong. Like them. From the doorway, the unseen Queen smiled proudly at child, with Marta then saying, "And you must believe in good, those who _are_ good…"

Marta then drew one last Tarot card from the deck, studying it for a moment, before contently laying it for Theresa to see.

"And that there is always one last card to be drawn."

Theresa slowly picked the Tarot card up to study it.

"Justice?" she asked quizzically.

"An imbalance and injustice that needs righting," explained a smiling Marta, as the Queen of Swords made her anonymous leave. "And will be done accordingly."

* * *

><p>The moment Maria got home, she'd locked the doors and windows, gotten changed into more…'combat ready' attire (white shirt, brown slacks and brown boots), and had then set to work.<p>

Mrs Williams was most thankful that she'd taken the 'transition' from aristocracy to homemaking so naturally. All the tidiness of her home – done before they'd gone to the party - made it easy for Maria to start looking through drawers, cupboards, Lionel's trunk and any other possible hiding place in the house.

As a frustrated Maria searched everywhere for the real documents, she couldn't help but think back to what circumstance had made her into. The clothes she was now wearing; attire Uncle Joe had given her back in Spain for manual labour. Clothes that she'd worn on country rides by herself.

Certainly a far cry from the beautiful dresses her father had made her wear back in America. Before the fire set by criminals which destroyed her father, her home, her fortune…everything except two beautiful dresses which Maria had managed to recover from the ashes, miraculously intact and cleanable, both belonging to her mother…

And the silver, heart-shaped locket she'd kept round her neck at all times. The first gift Maria's father had ever given her, the one he made her swear to protect loyally and never ever lose.

The American had just opened the wardrobe to see her dresses and then touched her locket to caress it in her fingers. She opened it to see the two small painted images of both her parents on opposite sides of the hinge.

"_A gift I had specially made for your mother," her father explained fondly. "When I asked her hand in marriage. And for you to know that we are always with you."_

_Snap out of it, girl!_ Maria shook her head, closing the wardrobe door. _Your husband needs you!_

The soldier's wife carried on searching for another five minutes, trying to think like her husband, wondering where _he _would keep his most guarded secrets. The look in the trunk earlier had revealed nothing except medals of honour, his beloved journal (locked and buried deep beneath clothes), various books and figurines from his childhood…but as for the official copies that Lionel kept for the sake of insurance…nothing at all, not even in his study.

Maria felt like giving up, but she couldn't. Lionel was in jail and in danger. She couldn't give up on him, she wouldn't dare. Not after everything they'd been through together. She gritted her teeth, determined to think of another solution. The American woman then remembered the munitions cabinet under the stairs and quickly got the key from the bottom of the kitchen drawer.

Upon opening the cabinet, she immediately saw nothing but Lionel's spare sword and pistol, a holster, some spare bullets…and Maria's own personal arsenal. Her own sabre and knife (complete with sheaths) - means of defence that Lionel had given her upon completing her training. Training that she'd asked for, due to her adventurous nature.

And the unfortunate circumstances.

As Maria pulled the sword out of its sheath to examine, she once again reflected on everything her ability to fight had given and made. Sparring with Tessa the other day had been tremendous fun, making Maria relive the days of her childhood and adolescence; all those adventures with her brothers.

Then she grimaced over that fateful day she became a warrior when no other was around.

"_Lookee here, amigos! Pretty girl all alone!"_

"_Missing your husband, senorita?"_

"_Get out of my house!"_

"_Shut the baby up! Permanently!"_

"_DON'T YOU TOUCH MY CHILD!"_

"_You little tramp!"_

"_No…please!"_

"_Huuuukkkkk!"_

"_You animals!"_

"_Maria! Are you alright?"_

"_Oh, god…what I have done?"_

"_Maria, calm yourself! Theresa's fine!"_

"_What have I done?"_

…

"_It's okay, sweetheart. I'm here now. You're safe. We've covered up for you. No one will ever know."_

"_I murdered them…"_

"_NO. You killed to save yourself and our child. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. And thank God you're both safe."_

"…"

"_Not all adventures are fun, my love."_

"_Lionel…will it ever go away?"_

"_No, it won't. I'm sorry, it never does. All you can do is live with it. But it's a burden you'll never have to bear alone, Maria. I promise you."_

…

Maria snapped the blade back into its cover, her face ridden with angst as she couldn't stop remembering her husband's enemies, invading her home whilst he was away fighting. They all meant her and baby Theresa bodily harm…and Maria had killed all three of the attackers. Stabbing, shooting…and twisting one's arm to embed his own knife right in his throat.

_Who the hell am I? _Maria asked herself, as she chose to take her sword, knife and pistol out of the cabinet and strap the weapons in their cases to her body. _I'm so sure one moment…and the next I'm not. Why don't I know when I should?_

Realising that the evidence wasn't in the munitions cabinet either, Maria gave up. She took some spare shots and filled her pistol with gunpowder from the barrel under the stairs before finally closing and locking everything up.

_Come on, Maria_, the American chastised herself. _Are you worthy of the name Williams or aren't you? You know your husband! He's always preaching that information is like gold. Always out of grasp, yet within reach. In other words…never in the most likely searching…place._

The soldier's wife then remembered something…curious. The day the Williams family had moved into their new home, Maria had taken to it immediately, she loved the décor, the cleanliness, the back yard, the fact that it was right in town, the space, the comfort it provided…she loved the kitchen more than anything else.

All ideal…except for one scrap of wallpaper that had come lose from the upper corner in their bedroom, just below the ceiling. A spot of water damage had been responsible, also resulting in some plaster crumbling from behind. Maria could remember that as soon as Lionel had gone off-duty to come see the house…it was this spot of water damage that had made him keen more than anything else about the place. Lionel had promised he would fix it when he had the chance and he did. And although Maria was satisfied with the job he'd done, she couldn't help but notice an ever-so-slight bulge that had been wallpapered over.

"_Did the best I could with what I had, and that's the truth," _Lionel had rather cryptically explained. _"Maybe there's something else going on behind there we don't know about. But it's not doing any harm for the moment. If something bothers you though, honey…maybe you can figure out what it is."_

Maria had thought he was referring to the water damage and its cause. But now the pin had finally dropped.

"Lionel, you genius!" she smiled, realising the clue her husband had left all this time to help her in an emergency such as this. Grabbing the kitchen steps, she darted upstairs to their bedroom. Remembering the exact spot, she groaned in frustration over forgetting that they'd shunted the wardrobe in the alcove next to the bed, blocking the bulge in the wallpaper.

Maria walked over, placed her hands behind the furniture to get a grip so she could move it. The American gritted her teeth, grunting in her attempt to move it aside with all her strength, but the bulk and shape (along with the limited space) made the task rather awkward. After shoving the wardrobe barely an inch away, Mrs Williams took a respite to pull the bottom drawers completely out and put them to one side. She then opened the doors and threw all the clothes out onto the bed. The only item now left inside was a big, brown coat and hat, both belonging to Lionel. Smiling in fondness, she put the coat on and the hat to one side.

_I'll wear that on the way out_, she decided, before turning back to the now-much lighter wardrobe. Getting another grip on it, Maria this time succeeded in moving the furniture out of the alcove so she could get at the bulge just below the ceiling in the corner. Using the steps, Maria reached the spot and used her knife to carefully cut the wallpaper.

What she saw underneath brought such a grin to her face.

It was a portfolio, and inside was Lionel's file, copies of military reports, an assorted collection of evidence, details of name changes...Maria excitedly flicked through the sheets of paper and seconds later…she found it.

An exact copy of the report Lionel had filed back in America, detailing everything that really happened, complete with testimony and seals of approval. An authentic account to clear her husband.

_I'm coming, honey,_ grinned Mrs Williams, snapping the portfolio shut and jumping off the steps onto the floor. Grabbing the hat, Maria put it on and left the room, with the evidence under her arm.

Only to walk into a party of four intruders along the hallway, three of them armed, pistols cocked and aimed right for her face. Their leader grinned and chuckled sinisterly, observing her body with a spyglass.

"Knew it was a good idea to let you do the work for us…" smiled Malcolm, shutting the spyglass and bearing his horrible teeth at her, "my darling Elizabeth."

* * *

><p>Doctor Helm still didn't know what to make of the events of this afternoon. It smelt of yet another Montoya set-up, but Williams' attitude had been most strange indeed. Why profess innocence and then surrender himself so easily upon hearing the charges?<p>

Robert didn't like the Golden Sergeant. He never had, and he didn't see any reason to change his stance, even in light of them both being brought in on Tessa's secret and her crusade.

However, the Englishman was concerned for Maria. And hoped she would be alright, regardless of this skeleton that had seemingly fallen out of her husband's closet. The Queen would doubtless be 'working' – placing herself in danger yet again – leaving the Doctor with no choice but to put his worries aside and remind himself that it was just another day in their lives.

With nothing else to do, Helm did the only thing he could after the party ended so abruptly. He returned to his office to go over his list of appointments left for the week, then decided to check on a patient out of town to see how they were healing.

_The Queen's got her job to do,_ realised Helm now in the stables, securing his bag to the saddle of his horse. _Might as well focus on mine._

All ready to go, the Englishman was about to mount his steed…then stopped. Taking his shoe off the footrest, the former spy focused. It had been an ever-so-slight sound, reminiscent of a pin dropping. Helm looked from left to right, shrugged and then prepared to mount his horse again. Then he stopped before he could get on, groaned and then left the stables, muttering to himself that he'd left his stethoscope back in his office.

The coast now clear, the figure crept out slowly from behind the bundle of hay, secretly chastising himself for nearly allowing the surgeon to see him. The fugitive carefully stepped over to his stable and unbolted the gate, his horse waiting for him. The runaway looked over his shoulder one more time; no guards, no peeping Toms. All was still clear.

Or so it seemed.

He was just about to mount up when he felt the terrific crack of the wooden club right across the back of his head. He reached out for the stable gate to stop himself from falling over and then felt the hand grab his shoulder to spin him round and pin him against the fence.

"I'd almost forgotten that hole underneath the back wall," explained Doctor Helm, his knife in hand. "Should've known that…"

As Robert pressed the knife to the fugitive's throat, he was caught off-guard slightly when the angered man had managed to regain enough of his bearings to draw his pistol and press it hard against the Doctor's cheek. For both men, though, anger turned into surprise when they finally recognised each other.

"Williams!"

"Helm!" seethed the Golden Sergeant angrily, his head throbbing wildly. "I might've known. By the way…that _hurt_."

"What the hell are you doing here?" demanded Robert, whispering to avoid attracting attention. "And more important," the Doctor noted Williams' contusions, "what scuffles have you been causing?"

"Get that knife away from my throat _now_," ordered Lionel, equally quiet as he moved his pistol away from Robert's head, "or I'll head butt your nose deep into your…"

"Fine!" snapped the Englishman, withdrawing his blade, and backing off to allow the American some space.

"Now answer my question. What are you doing?"

"Leaving to clear my name. See ya."

Helm sidestepped to block Williams' path and then demanded, "If you were innocent, why didn't you just say so at the party?"

"When did _you_ start caring about me?"

"Never. I'm more concerned about your wife, and that you'll have naturally dragged the Queen into this as well."

"I don't have time for this," remarked the sergeant, shoving the doctor aside to get at his horse. "I trust we're at least amicable enough for you to keep your mouth shut about me being here."

The surgeon then forcefully grabbed the soldier's arm to make him stop and the situation grow even more intense.

"Tell me what's going on, Williams," ordered Doctor Helm sternly. "_Now_."

"I don't care how much the kid loves you," spat the Golden Sergeant venomously, spinning round "you're _really_ asking for a fat lip, and as much as I…"

"You _owe_ me, remember? When you came to me for answers about the Queen of Swords, I gave them to you when I _didn't have to_. And I would really prefer not going to my grave a blind idiot!"

Williams stared thoughtfully at Helm for a second before nodding and conceding, "Alright. But if you want to know, then shut up and come…"

The slight sound of guns cocking was enough to make Williams turn his head round to the gateway out of the stables. The figure of an outlaw – obviously one of Malcolm's men – was smiling, holding two pistols, aimed for both heads in his sights.

And about to squeeze the triggers.

His reflexes kicking in, Lionel drew his own pistol, shoved Robert hard onto the ground, and fired his weapon before the killer could even react. The Doctor looked up, spitting out the dirt that had entered his mouth…to see the top of their attacker's head explode into blood.

"You bastard!" shouted an angry Helm as Williams yanked him up to his feet. "You didn't have to kill him!"

"Tell _him_ that!" spat the soldier angrily, nodding at the bandit's body.

"Get in there! Kill them both!" jeered the voices from outside, making both Doctor and Soldier look up with alarm

"Rrragghh…SHIT!" growled a frustrated Lionel, before running to his horse. "Come on, Helm!"

"What the hell have you dragged me into, you…?"

Robert's tirade was cut off by the fist of a man who'd had more than enough. The Englishman crashed back to the ground, now sporting a bloody, fat lip. As promised. Lionel then picked Robert up off the ground again, shoved him forward to his horse and yelled at him to "Ride, damn it! Ride!".

Doctor Helm could only try and shake off all the cobwebs and anger as he and Sergeant Williams mounted and kicked their horses to hightail it out of the stables as fast and as hard as possible. Several more of Conrad's men then entered the premises, all armed with rifles, but before they could even prepare to fire, they were forced to jump for cover as the riders and their horses raced past with all haste. One bandit tried to shoot Williams regardless, only for the Golden Sergeant to draw his sword and knock the gun out of his grasp, then put his boot right into the killer's face on the way out.

The outlaws regrouped to open fire as the doctor and the sergeant kept their heads down, the shocked townsfolk in alarm over Lionel Williams and Robert Helm fleeing. More shots fired, sending the people screaming and scattering.

"Damn it!" snarled one of the outlaws as the fugitives soon became out of range. "Get word to the boss! Tell Montoya's grunts what's happening!"

* * *

><p>Malcolm 'oohed' and 'aared' as he flickered through the pages of the portfolio.<p>

"I remember that!" he chuckled mockingly. "The time when me and him went on our 'working vacation' in Washington with Abe! You remember that one right?"

Maria - disarmed, hatless and bound to the chair – simply stared at the horrible man, with one of his cohorts pressing a sharp knife to her throat. Also in the living room, another outlaw was guarding the kitchen looking out the windows for any intruders. Malcolm's third man was resting against the front door.

"Hmm? No?" the murderer asked the silent housewife. "That story had you in stitches when we first told you. Don't you remember that first day we met?"

Maria could never ever forget. Back in America, when her father had been in talks with the military over a new factory he was building for them. Lord Nigel Parker had ordered his daughter to come along to help oversee matters that should concern her. Really he wanted to get Elizabeth away from her brothers and maybe find a husband for her at the same time.

She remembered it all so vividly, like it were only yesterday. Seventeen-year-old Elizabeth being bored out of her mind, told every now and again to 'come along' and 'pay attention', expected to act like a classy puppet. The day was tedious…right up to the point when she met the Conrad brothers, twenty-six-year-old Andrew and his younger brother Malcolm (twenty-four), both soldiers of corporal rank. Malcolm was immature, something of a joker. Andrew was the polar opposite; reserved, yet kind. Although he didn't smile anywhere near as much as his brother, he could appreciate a good laugh.

And underneath that exterior…that _mask_…Elizabeth could sense the damaged heart of someone who felt so alone.

Like herself.

Malcolm was bored with his routine patrol and suggested they'd all relocate elsewhere. Elizabeth had been quick to agree, and despite Andrew voicing his concerns, he reluctantly conceded. Conversation and laughs followed - more with Andrew than Malcolm – then the approval of Lord Parker came.

And the rest was history.

"I'm _hurt_ you've forgotten, Elizabeth," Malcolm 'sweetly' confessed, gesturing his follower to back-off with the blade. He then approached the restrained woman, handing the portfolio over to his cohort, and leering into her indifferent face. "But I suppose that comes with change, doesn't it…'Maria Williams'?"

Maria didn't give him any response. She tried to unfasten the ropes that were binding her wrists together. Her brothers had taught her how to do so, and she'd been able to free herself before but that was when time and slacker ropes were on her side. Nevertheless, she secretly persisted as Malcolm continued to prattle.

"Just look at you. So beautiful…so adventurous. But to be honest…you look so much more sexier in your mom's dresses than you do in those man's clothes. No wonder your dad wanted you to do as you were told.

"That sword, the gun, the knife…naughty, little girl. Should be the faithful house-wife. And yet, here you are…from aristocrat to wife to homemaker to actress to killer to…I could be wrong about this…_mother_?"

Maria didn't even flinch, but inside she was shouting at herself to, _Don't react. Don't talk about Theresa at all. Change the subject._

"Come on, Elizabeth," nodded the insidious outlaw, licking his lips at her. "You've put on a little weight since last time I saw you. On stage back in Madrid starring in Hamlet. May have been several years ago, before Bonaparte screwed up the world, but I recognise maternity pounds anywhere. So is it boy or girl? Singular or plural? Uncle Malcolm would…"

"Why are you even here?" asked Maria simply. "What do you want?"

"What do I want? Isn't it obvious?"

"You tried to kill me, your own brother, faked your death, stalked us all this time, running like a coward from Napoleon while _we_ were fighting, pursued us from Spain to California…and _why_? You said it was to get everything that Lionel has. But I know the real truth. All that immaturity, all that shirking responsibility…ever since day one…

"Should've known. It was all because you were never good enough for _anything_."

"Don't even _try _to get in my head, Lizzy," Malcolm told her condescendingly. "You're not _that _smart."

"All those months you manipulated me, claiming to love me…hitting me with those sob stories about how your parents disciplined you for misbehaviour, never loving you as much as they did Andrew…he became the hero, you became the bitter, smelly tramp. That's why you turned to crime along with the other losers, isn't it?"

"Am I meant to be riled by any of this?"

"I can already tell you are. You're not answering my questions, you're merely evading them. And you're doing all this to us, after all this time…because you're just like the rest of the sad, pathetic losers out there. Weak, scared bully. And in Montoya's eyes…nothing more than _expendable_."

The outlaw scowled, took his knife out, grabbed Maria's throat and pressed the blade on her cheek, right under her eye. Lionel's wife struggled to breathe, bear the pain of Malcolm's strength squeezing her neck so tightly. Yet she bravely looked her brother-in-law right in the eye and dared, "Do it."

Now it was Malcolm's turn to simply stare. After a few seconds, his maniacal grin returned.

"I knew my love for you was _legitimate_," he replied, breathing down the side of Maria's face, like he wanted to lick her cheek. "Disturbed, evil and up for mind games. Just like me…my worthy bride."

Maria's face betrayed absolutely nothing. Deep down though, she remembered when Malcolm had held her hostage on her wedding day. The day when all the horrible truths came out. She'd become scared, angry over the betrayal…and without thinking, she'd taken his eye out in a bid to get free.

Maria never forgot Malcolm's screams, the blood, the horrible scar she'd inflicted…and the fact she had tainted her innocence by committing such a heinous act.

_Is he right?_ She asked herself. _Am I just like him? After what I did? Those lives that I took?_

The knife's point became close to cutting her skin, making Maria grimace and struggle to get free, but Malcolm laughed and shoved her chair over, making Maria's head bang hard on the floor as she fell. Kneeling down, Malcolm then grabbed Maria's head and pinned it down, stopping her from wriggling as he put his knife back on her face.

"Don't worry, Elizabeth," shushed Malcolm as she seethed and grunted. "I'm not a reckless amateur like you. I'm an artist. Gently at first, then become more _forceful_ when I'm ready to sculpt. I'll have painted a masterpiece. And then we'll both be the marked lovers again…and _this_ time, our union will go undisturbed. Because there's _no one_ to save you now."

_Theresa…Lionel…_grimaced Maria as she could feel the blade about to pierce her skin again. _I'm sorry…_

"Burn the evidence," ordered Malcolm to his men. "Then the house."

_No, not again!_ Mrs Williams felt like crying out in despair at first.

Until her thoughts turned to those of dark realisation.

"It was you!" she shouted angrily. "_You_ sent those men to burn my home! You killed my father!"

"Guilty as charged," admitted Malcolm with zero remorse. "Just like everyone else."

The knife landed deep in the outlaw's right shoulder blade. Screaming as his wracked body made him stand up to his feet, Malcolm dropped the knife and turned round like a foaming, rabid dog that had just been whipped. The man who was about to burn the portfolio dropped the unlit match, matchbook and file in alarm. Maria gulped and panted her fear then looked to where the knife had come from.

The relief fuelled such an ecstatic smile.

The Queen of Swords emerged from the kitchen doorway, walking over the bandit she'd taken care of upon entering the house. Uncoiling her whip, the vigilante lashed out, the stinging leather venomously touching the other killers' hands and painfully making them drop their weapons.

The Queen then cracked the whip again, this time striking out right across Conrad's face, on the scar no less. He cursed and fell to the floor, as the others rushed to the Avenging Angel.

The masked Tessa dropped her weapon, backed away into the kitchen, then jumped up to grab the top boarder of the doorway's frame. With a sufficient hold, she swung into the living room, feet-first into the nearest attacker's face. The killer felt the Queen's boots nearly break his nose, then his head crack on the table as he fell. The Avenging Angel landed, got her arms up to block the knife that was coming down, then planted the boot in the outlaw's midsection, rolling onto her spine and throwing him right into the kitchen.

Malcolm tried to get up, only for the Queen to kick him hard in the face for his efforts. Sure that he would be down long enough, the Avenging Angel gave Conrad a mocking smile before darting over to the still-captive Maria.

"I cannot describe just how thrilled, lucky and thankful I am to have _you _for my best friend!" smiled Mrs Williams, as the Queen used her friend's knife to cut her bonds.

"You and several dozen others," smiled the masked Tessa after she finished freeing the soldier's wife. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, thanks. Where's the portfolio?"

They both quickly surveyed the mess of the front room, remembering that the invaders wouldn't be out for long. Maria's eyes then spotted the dropped folder in the far corner of the room, right next to the fireplace. Its papery contents spilt over the floorboards.

"Gather it all up, quick!" yelled Maria as they both ran over to pick up the evidence that could clear her husband. In no time at all, the two friends had filed it all safely back in the binder.

"Come on, hurry!" implored the Queen, grabbing Maria's arm. "Chico's outside!"

"Hang on a second!" the American asked the vigilante, thrusting the file into her arms. Turning to the sofa, Maria grabbed her arsenal that Malcolm had left there to taunt her with. Quickly sheathing her sword and knife, holstering her pistol and finally grabbing her hat, Maria followed the Queen of Swords out the back door to escape.

She couldn't help but look back over her shoulder at the sight of Malcolm coming to.

The savage outlaw eventually rose with menace, his men still groaning over lingering hurts the Queen had given them as they rolled over on the ground.

Malcolm just stared at the back door through the kitchen, where his prey had fled through.

_Should've remembered you don't come to Santa Helena and not expect to bump into the Queen of Swords, _sneered the butcher, the knife still imbedded in his shoulder blade. Using his left hand, he screamed as he pulled the blade out, and yelled at his men to get up and get him a bandage. Then some needle and thread.

_Oh, well, _realised Conrad, another sadistic smirk starting to form. _More points for me. Elizabeth's on the run, as much a fugitive as her darling husband. And once I've set Andrew up for murder…_

Malcolm looked at the knife the Queen had thrown into his shoulder, stained with his own blood. The savage animal licked it with his tongue, then began to imagine what the Avenging Angel's blood would taste like.

"Cold revenge, my favourite," the butchering outlaw grinned, looking up in the direction of where the women had ran.

* * *

><p>Elsewhere, Doctor Robert Helm could only glare at the runaway soldier who had now led them approximately three miles out of town without stopping. The surgeon's swollen lip still throbbed uncomfortably where the American had hit him. Robert should've been remembering the circumstances, the fact that it <em>hadn't been the time or place<em> for Robert to go off into a tirade against the soldier.

The fact that he'd probably asked for a punch to the face.

But all he could think about was contempt for the sergeant. And so many questions.

Lionel looked over his shoulder and when there was no one behind him, he exhaled his temporary relief and stopped, making his reluctant ally and 'friend' stop also. They'd lost their pursuers.

_Very small consolation_, Williams thought bitterly. _The governor of the state, my darkest reflection, the ambassador of Spain and God knows how many more murderers are after me. And they'll kill everyone affiliated with me to further make me look like the bad guy._

The Golden Sergeant - battered, bruised and close to beaten - then turned to face the silent and angry glare of the Englishman. Lionel's mind was utterly consumed by all that happened. How one subtle move by Montoya - and a ghost foolishly believed to be dead – had succeeded in turning his life completely upside down.

Again.

And he knew that Malcolm's men had targeted Helm because Montoya and Grisham knew that neither soldier or doctor liked each other. Murdering both of them and pinning it on Williams would be misinterpreted as 'proof' of the Golden Sergeant's implied corruption.

Williams couldn't dare think of what they would be doing to his family right now.

"Doctor…" began the American, in a voice laced with regret and torment, "I…"

"The only thing," cut off Robert icily, "I want to hear from you…is what I deserve. Who the hell are you?"

The wind began to blow, sending a chill down the soldier's spine. He breathed in deep, letting the silence rattle him so much more.

"I'm waiting," demanded the Doctor impatiently.

"My name…" began the fugitive anxiously, wondering how and why this had all happened to him before eventually coming out with the truth.

"My _real _name…_isn't_ Lionel Williams. It's Andrew Conrad. And the man who's trying to destroy my life…is my own brother Malcolm…who I arrested and had hanged for corruption back in America eleven years ago."


	3. Downward Spiral

_Disclaimer: Queen of Swords was created by Fireworks Entertainment, and is owned by ContentFilm. This story is NOT affiliated with the rights holders or the show's original creators. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made. This story is for entertainment purposes only._

_The author would like to thank Robert Vincent for all his valuable support and input._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12: Downward Spiral<strong>

The Queen made Chico stop once they were safely at Alunya Canyon. They took refuge between the stables and the abandoned shack. It had been years since the building was inhabited and was mostly used by squatters and fugitives, even though the stables themselves were still legally accessible.

"They won't be able to pick up our trail for a while," informed the Queen.

"How long's a while?" asked Maria.

"Long enough for me to give them the run-around. Long enough to give them the slip. Long enough to find Robert and Lionel and come up with a plan."

"So what's our next move?"

"_You're_ getting off here."

"What? I'm not leaving you to…!"

"We don't have time to argue! Now, _please _get off…Elizabeth."

Maria sighed, blinked her eyes in dismay, then did as she was told. She then looked up at Tessa with a pained face, who was waiting for more of an explanation.

"Thought you said we didn't have _time_," Mrs Williams said simply.

"We _don't_. So spill the beans."

Maria held her tongue for a few seconds, looking downcast before explaining, "I _hated _being Elizabeth Parker. I really hated it. Being the prim and proper daughter of a wealthy industrialist, expected to dress nice and act with debonair and poise. All those arguments with my dad over what a girl should be, how I shouldn't be playing rough with my brothers, blah-blah-blah…"

Maria's lip then quivered as she relived that terrible fire.

"And I never ever told the stubborn old goat just how much I loved him. And when he was taken from me…"

The Queen remained respectfully silent for a moment before gently pressing, "Was that Malcolm's handiwork?"

"I saw him _die_," explained Maria, through gritted teeth. "We were _both _there at his hanging. Back then, we didn't think about dead ringers. Only that the man who screwed up our lives finally got what he deserved. After that, Andrew and I married but Andrew ended up with a great big bull's-eye painted on him. Bandits, corrupt soldiers were all after him after he took down his own brother."

Maria then looked the Queen in the eye and then confirmed with a tone full of agonizing realization, "And I had no idea that Malcolm was behind the fire until this _afternoon_."

Tessa could only offer utmost sympathies as she said, "I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

Mrs Williams simply looked away and continued, "After I lost my home, my father, my fortune…we realised that America was no longer safe for us. That's why we changed our names and fled to Spain. Lionel's Aunt and Uncle were still alive so they took us in. Lionel taught me how to use a sword so I could take care of myself. It wasn't long before he was forcibly drafted into the army and made to fight for Napoleon when he conquered Spain."

Maria couldn't fight back the tears as she continued painfully, "Those murdering bastards! I _loved _Lionel's Aunt and Uncle! Just as much as he did. They made him choose either me or them simply because they _could. _Then they made us watch their execution to remind us what would happen if we opposed them…"

Tessa Alvarado knew all too well the horrors Napoleon had created in the world. She had grown up in a war-torn Madrid, after all.

"But despite all of that…" Mrs Williams sighed, wiping away the tears and raising a brave smile, "I'm glad it shaped me into Maria Williams. Elizabeth Parker was just a cliché, dictated by her father. Ever since I was born, I struggled to find my identity. My brothers gave me a sense of adventure but it wasn't enough. Going to Spain, having a new name, being a mother, living for fun, a warrior when called upon…it shaped me into someone I never thought I could be."

Maria's smile then dropped in despair as she finished, "I just never ever expected my past to keep following me until there's nowhere left to run."

"Take it from me…" sighed the Queen in bitter remembrance. "The past is always there. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why didn't _you_ tell me you liked putting on lace masks and fighting soldiers on horseback?" groaned Maria. "No one tells all their secrets on the first date, Tessa. Baby steps. You know that better than most."

"Hide in the shack and stay out of sight," ordered the Avenging Angel. "I'm going to find Lionel and Robert, then we'll try and sort out this mess."

"Montoya's working with Malcolm! And with Ambassador Enríquez buying Montoya's lies, that will mean no one's going to listen to reason! Lionel and all his men will be replaced by Malcolm and all the other murderers he has under his command!"

"I'm willing to bet that Enriquez will reserve judgement. He hasn't invested this much time and money in his campaign just to be swayed this easily."

"Just because he's no desire to apprehend you doesn't mean he'll take your word!" protested Maria. "And Montoya will kill both Lionel and Robert on sight! _If _Malcolm doesn't get to them first!"

Maria's face then turned a terrified white as she realised…"Oh, God…Theresa…"

"Theresa's perfectly safe with Marta at the hacienda," calmed the Queen. "Malcolm's no interest with Tessa Alvarado. And I'm certain he doesn't even know you have a daughter."

"Of course he does! If he tracked us down to Santa Helena, then he knows everything else! You don't know what he's capable of."

"I fight bandits and murderers for a living," smiled the vigilante optimistically. "I'm good at taking guesses."

"This isn't a joke! Malcolm will…!"

"Maria! Trust me!"

The Queen's shout snapped Mrs Williams back into it, saving her from hysteria. Her focus and confidence returning, Maria nodded vehemently, "Yes, Queen. I do, Queen."

"Good girl. I'll lead them away from here to buy you time. When I get the others, I'll meet you back here." Looking down at the sword and pistol attached to Maria's side, the masked Tessa told her, "Defend yourself only when you _have _to."

"Take this," told the vigilante's friend, handing her the portfolio containing the official reports that could clear Lionel's name. "It's much safer with you. When you give the papers to Lionel, tell him I'll never give up on him."

"I'll see you later," the Avenging Angel said, placing the binder in a large pocket on Chico's saddle. "Remember what I said."

The Queen of Swords then rode off hard and fast, leaving Maria Williams exhaling deeply, "Godspeed, Tessa. Godspeed."

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, at Briscoe Canyon, Sergeant Williams stopped, making the angry Doctor Helm stop also. The emergency hut was still there, complete with food, drink and emergency supplies for travellers. He gently rode forward to guide his horse to the water trough and then tied him to the post. Helm did the same, yet he refused to take his glaring eyes off the Golden Sergeant. His mouth still hurt where Williams had punched him.<p>

"We'll need to rest here for a bit," explained Lionel after he dismounted.

"So how exactly are you planning to get us out of this mess, then?" asked Robert as he got off his horse and walked over to the soldier, who was now pulling the lever up and down to pump more water into the trough.

"I'm still working on it. In the meantime, we can't stay long. The whole garrison are after us. And with the ambassador at Montoya's side, my men will have no choice but to do as they're ordered and bring me in."

"Well, it's pleasing that you can still state the tactically obvious. That's most helpful indeed."

Lionel ignored him as he carried on pumping. Once he'd finished, he'd turned to the hut and opened the door to check out what supplies there were. The rations were pitiful. Only a few measly water biscuits and tins. First aid supplies were scarce also.

_Damn it, why don't they replenish the stock in these things more often?_ seethed Williams. He grabbed what he could and walked back to the sack tied on his saddle to fill it up with the food. He handed Helm the bandage scraps, who continued to just stare at him with disdain, even as he put the bandages away in the satchel on his horse.

"Have a drink," advised the Golden Sergeant, throwing him the water bag for Helm to catch. "We won't be stopping again for a long time."

"Fortunately, dying of thirst is the very _least _of my problems right now," the Doctor retorted, throwing the water bag back at the soldier, who likewise caught it. "I'd say dying at the hands of a complete stranger…or Montoya, is my primary concern at the moment. Then there's the fact that Tessa is doubtless risking her life trying to save us, putting her in grave danger. As well as your wife. Then there's the issue that I'm on the run with a fugitive who was 'apparently' as corrupt as the rest of the military, which grants me a fresh charge of aiding and abetting. That just about makes Grisham's day."

"I _had _to break out of jail," explained Williams, trying to keep his cool. "I couldn't wait for the executioner's axe to come down while everything else was unravelling. Now, we need to…"

"Is that how you keep yourself warm at night after the things you do during the day?" Helm asked darkly. "Constantly justifying your actions with one excuse after the next? Blowing a man's head off right in front of me? And dragging me on your little escapade? Just because you thought it was the right thing to do?"

"Those men would've _killed _you, Doctor."

"I was minding my own business. Do you honestly think my life _needed _saving? Those outlaws were only after _you._ And it's hardly surprising. When they work for the dead brother that you supposedly killed."

His patience having had enough, Williams angrily turned and fired back with, "Oh, I _am _sorry, Florence. Really I am. My life has already been screwed up too many times, and I can't begin to tell you just how awful I feel about all the lives I've ruined. And how I've dragged yet another innocent into my wars. Oh, wait a minute. No, I don't. Not _this _time. Because _you're _not an innocent, are you? Having taken lives, and endangered others more because of your sins and some maniac trying to kill you? Never nice when the boot's on the other foot, is it, _killer_?"

Helm struggled to keep his pain and remorse in check and then angrily snapped, "Williams…Conrad…or whatever the hell your name is, you've just shown me the reason why I don't like you. You pretend to be an honest gentleman when you're nothing more than a harsh, brutal man at heart."

"Is that really so different from _you_?"

"How _dare _you. I forsook all that senseless slaughter for all the _right _reasons. Whilst you seem perfectly happy to kill and maim for the hell of it. Can you really say that makes me a 'stuck-up, two-faced, cringe-coward who hides behind doctoring, and uses it to make himself superior to everyone else'?"

"Helm…" began Williams icily, getting into the Englishman's face, "when I called you that…I _wasn't_ insulting your profession or your career choice. You traded in your sword and pistol for a scalpel and stethoscope. You turned the hands of death into the hands of life. There's no cowardice or disgrace in _any _of that, shouting out to everyone, 'No more killing!' I _admire _and _respect _you for that."

Robert knew that Lionel was being sincere. And he still wasn't impressed. The Sergeant nevertheless continued, "What I _detest _and _dis_respect about you…is that you let that noble act go to your head. Sticking your nose up at people who you consider beneath your attention, because they either 'apparently' haven't experienced what you have or are as evil as all those men you fought. That kind of arrogance reminds me of _Montoya_."

"I do _not_ conduct myself like Montoya!" snapped the Englishman.

"Really? So I should just _ignore _the first day we met? When I complimented you and you slapped me down? As doubtless you've done to Tessa or the Queen whenever she'd offer sympathy and understanding?"

A silent Robert looked away from Lionel, who then scoffed, "I rest my case."

"You're one to talk," Helm rebutted, renewing his argument. "Trying to apprehend her because of her status. _Complimenting _her when she killed Benito."

"I _wasn't _complimenting her for…"

"What do _your dead _mean to you?" asked Helm cruelly. "Do you spit on their graves? Do you actually _enjoy _taking another's life? Is that why you only believe in shedding tears for those who 'deserve them'? Hmm?"

The cold wind did little to ease the growing tension between the two men. Williams looked sorely tempted to punch Helm right in the mouth again, the way he was clenching his fist and glaring evilly at the Doctor.

"The way you just shrugged off that bandit's death like it meant nothing to you…the way you snapped Pablo's neck. That is more cold than anything I can possibly imagine."

"Yes, it is," agreed the Golden Sergeant in a normal tone, which shocked the Doctor tremendously. But before Helm could even have a chance to let his anger boil over completely, Williams turned round and muttered, "'The Golden Sergeant'. What a laugh."

Helm's emotions were washed away by a sea of surprise. He stared quizzically at the soldier, who leant against the post of the water trough and looked up to the sky, sporting a face of bitter remembrance.

"I suppose why I became a soldier in the first place was because I wanted to make a difference to the world," began Williams. "When me and Malcolm were sent to Spain to live with our Aunt and Uncle…that day…when we saw our parents gunned down before our eyes…"

The shots fired in his mind. Small tears trailed down Lionel's face.

"It never went away. And it never will, either. And it happens to too many people. And it made me sick to my stomach thinking people could just get away with murder. For a time, I thought that's what Malcolm wanted, too. An end to suffering and despair. Turned out he just loved the thrill of battle. More importantly, washing his hands in the blood of others."

Helm winced with disgust when Williams said that.

"Anyway, when we grew up and went back home to enrol in the U.S. army…I remember that first day. The rifle in my hand. The lethal force heavier than my frail hands could possibly carry. Rookie nerves are always a given on the first day.

"Then came the shouting and the screaming. Everyone diving to take cover. Swords clashing…pistols firing, cannons blowing man and landscape to pieces. I'd never been so scared before.

"Then came victim number one. He laughed at me, cursed me, ridiculed me…as I held the sword to defend myself. 'What if he has a family?' 'What if he has a sweetheart waiting for him back home?' 'How can I possibly shatter all that?' _Those _were the thoughts going through my mind that day, Helm. Then I killed him and thought 'Oh, God…what have I done?' I couldn't breathe, I could barely comprehend the fresh blood on my hands.

"Then came victim number two, trying to take my head off. I killed him first, acting on instinct. Then I thought, 'Oh, God…what am I turning into?' Three, four, five, six, seven…all followed just minutes later. And the less scared I became. I reckon it was number fifteen when I was made to swallow the bitter pill.

"That the only way to survive this madness was to _join it_. Show no compassion for the enemy, 'cause they sure as hell won't give any to _you_. Just do your job. And stop this madness from spreading to the rest of world. Because all those innocent people…do _not_ deserve to be subjected to this."

Facing Helm again, Williams explained, "War's a funny thing. It shapes everyone differently, I suppose. I gave up a lot of my humanity to make sure that the rest of the world wouldn't lose theirs. Whereas my own brother…was utterly consumed by violence. As well as corruption. It sickened me what he'd become. Richer and more contemptuous…abandoning _all _values for the sake of bloodlust and material possessions.

"Doubtless it sickened _him _that _my _happiness came in the form of the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on. The day I found out what Malcolm had become…was the day I learnt he'd planned to kill me and take Elizabeth for himself."

Helm's eyes and mouth widened with horror. Williams just stared at the surgeon with his voice trapped in his throat.

"Your…your own…?"

"_Yeah_…my own flesh and blood. It was bad enough losing my parents. Can you imagine what it was like to suffer a betrayal like that? From my own brother? It hurt like hell…all over again. And then I realised _he _didn't care."

Helm's horror remained silently etched on his face.

"Don't give me that look," pointed Lionel. "He turned his back on me. Was I _meant_ to think he could be redeemed? That he could be saved and rehabilitated? He made his choice, forcing me to make mine.

"I faked my death to throw him off-guard, then immediately went undercover. I hid in the shadows, building my case for a conviction against Malcolm…and watching over Elizabeth, making sure she was still safe."

Williams then seethed in disgust, "The number of times I had to stop myself vomiting or killing him every time he dared to touch her. The way he manipulated her, claiming to love her, viewing her and treating her as nothing more than a toy…

"I hadn't meant to hurt Elizabeth the way I did. Returning from the grave on her wedding. But there was no other way. Malcolm had left me no choice. By then, me and those loyal to me had uncovered enough evidence to convict him. We moved in, he refused to go down, took Elizabeth hostage and tried to kill her. I saved her life, stopped him…rest is history."

The Doctor just stared at him, unblinking. The Golden Sergeant likewise returned the glare, before breaking the stoic stare down with an impatient, "What? _Just - what?_ What do you _want _from me? _Please _tell me just what the hell your problem is! Because this has gone way past the point of tedious now! You and me at each other's…!"

"What's my _problem_?" asked the Doctor incredulously. "What's my problem?" He then yelled getting in Williams' face. "My problem is _you_! Your callousness and your sheer ignorance! Claiming you didn't want to hurt Maria yet you did anyway! Betraying your own brother, incriminating him and seeing him hanged! Your own family, and turning your cheek like it meant nothing! It's like your duty is all that's ever been important to you!"

"Have you not been listening to a single word I said?"

"Just _how much _of your humanity did you give up to _butcher _people? I'm thinking damn near all of it! That you don't suffer enough nightmares! That your every bit as much of a disgusting, murdering animal like Grisham and Montoya! And that you don't even have the honour to…!"

"Honour!" cackled Williams, mockingly. The interruption both enraged Helm even more…and unnerved him as the soldier walked away from him and continued laughing, "Honour! Honour! Honour!"

He then stopped his sinister laugh and span round back at the doctor with a venomous, "I forever _curse_ and _ridicule _both the moron who invented the 'h' word and the asshole who made it so overrated. I've seen sensitive fools kill each other in pointless duels over their inability to take insults. I've seen countries declare war against each other, cowards hide behind that word to justify their blatant wrongdoings and petty-minded braggarts daring to think that 'honour' is more important than _life_."

Williams let his words sink in before finishing, "Most of the time…honour is just a really fancy word for _ego_."

Undeterred, Helm came back with, "So by your argument, anybody who's honourable is an evil individual? Hmm? Does that mean the Queen is evil?"

"I wasn't saying that! Don't you ever listen?"

"Does that mean she's evil for saving lives and holding back, not being a death bringer like you?" asked Robert, mocking Lionel back just as cruelly. "Does that mean Don Vega or Don Ricardo are egotists for doing what they can to help the people? Does that mean I'm not a healer? And that I'm something the world could do without because I have honour? Does that mean _you're_ not just ruthless, amoral scum, who just uses his family for the sake of appearance, and clashes with Montoya and Grisham for the sake of ego?"

"You spiteful, ignorant bastard," seethed Williams, lowering his tone. "Alright, then. Let me put it in another way." He then erupted again into sarcasm, "Oh, no! The Queen _killed _to save my life. That must make her an _evil _woman!"

Immediately angry over Lionel bringing that up against him, Robert snarled back, "How _dare_ you…!"

"Shut up! You're gonna listen for once, eat it and like it! Yeah, the Queen's really evil for killing a man who was trying to kill me! Just like Montoya, who also killed to save my life, but I won't hold that against _him_. 'Cos he's a colonel, and a butcher by profession. So it's alright."

Helm gritted his teeth and looked away as Lionel slowly walked up to him, "Oh, no! What's this? A notorious bandit will bleed to death if I don't save his life! There we are! I've saved him and he'll change! I won't listen to the Queen's warnings. 'Cos she's an evil murderer that's worse than him!"

"You weren't there!" snapped back the Englishman angrily. "So don't you…!"

"And you weren't there neither during that mess with my brother!" spat back the American. "Yet you seem content to judge me like everyone else, and unable to take it like you dish it out. Now, where was I? Oh, no! This Serpent's murdering and pillaging again! All those people dead or dying! But that's okay! At least _I _feel good about myself! 'Cos it was the _honourable _thing to do!"

"THAT IS NOT TRUE!"

"YES, IT IS! Like all other judgements you make, Helm, you made that one with your head, not your heart! You condemned God knows how many people to suffering and death, and then had the nerve to stand there and act like your hands were clean! And you don't even have the balls to admit _that_!"

Helm didn't want to relive that terrible day. He couldn't face it, all his sins over again, and the Queen chastising him for his vanity. The bad mistake Robert had made, El Serpiente invading his home and attacking him, nearly killing him and the Queen, leaving Robert with no choice but to throw the knife into his heart and let another heavy death pile onto his conscience.

And Williams' relentless callousness continued, "When I said I admire and respect you, I genuinely meant that. But the more I've learnt about you, the more I've also been disgusted by you. The way you _picked favourites_, like the cowardly hypocrite that you are! Fancying yourself God's equal, like Montoya! Like _Napoleon_! The world doesn't work like that for mere mortals, Helm! And it damn sure doesn't show any sympathy just because you feel sorry for yourself!

"Evil never ever sleeps! There're too many monsters, killing, enslaving, raping and devouring all the good and normal people out there! There's _no time_ to waste by dwelling too much, putting your own selfish interests before that of the world! All those countless families, relying on you all the time to keep them safe from harm - all day, all night - from the relentless, never-ending scum that threatens to drown us all!

"Do you _know_ what that's _like_? _Living _with that kind of duty? That responsibility? DO YOU, COWARD?"

Having had more than enough, Doctor Helm punched Sergeant Williams right in the mouth, sending him crashing to the ground. The surgeon then grabbed the soldier by his collar and yelled in his face, "Yes, I _do_, Williams! And it eats at you worse than _cancer_!"

"Well I bet it doesn't eat at you anywhere near as much knowing you've given your _life_ to the world and it's all been for _nothing_!" blurted the soldier back, just as emotionally.

That declaration was something Helm _hadn't _expected. _Ever_. All the rage had now swept away at that point. The Doctor unhanded him, and the Golden Sergeant slowly stood to his feet, despairing as he spat a wad of blood out of his swollen lip onto the ground.

"There," sighed Lionel sadly, turning his back and placing his hands on his forehead. "I _said _it. Happy now?"

Narrowing his eyes, Robert asked earnestly, "Is that _really _what you think, Williams?"

"Helm, I'm no different…" began the soldier again, moving his hands to his hips, "than the rest of the foolish mortals that occupy God's Earth. I think I know everything. And every day, I just prove how little I know.

"I thought all masks were good…I lost my parents. I thought all families loved and protected each other, my own brother betrays me. I thought he was dead, he's now come back to kill me. I thought there'd be love and peace after Napoleon, people are still fighting and killing each other.

"And above all else, I thought coming to a small Californian town would be nothing but simply investigating crime and corruption…and now I'm in a war that's _bigger _than _anything_ I've ever fought before."

The confused Robert Helm asked, "'Bigger'?"

"It's more _personal_," the tired Lionel Williams explained, facing him again. "I'm not _sick_ of death, Doctor. I'm _tired_ of it. I'm tired of suffering it, I'm tired of causing it…and I'm tired of watching the evil and guilty prosper and live…while the good and innocent struggle and die.

"And you're absolutely correct. I _am _a bastard. A ruthless, heartless monster who's butchered and betrayed, because I believed I was doing the right thing. No matter how much I justify what I do, the fact remains that I _have_ killed, murdered, crippled comrades, friends and enemies, betrayed my superiors to Arthur Wellesley, my own brother to the noose, and endangered and ruined far too many innocent lives. _Exactly _like Montoya and Grisham. And no, that's _not_ something I'm proud of, but at the same time, it's not something I'm _scared _to admit."

Doctor Helm could only focus on Sergeant Williams' heartfelt words as they continued, "And all that time, I ask myself why do I keep doing it? When the world's still no better off than it was even _before_ the war. Even before my parents died.

"The number of times I've thought about taking one of _these_?" asked Williams rhetorically, taking his pistol, cocking the hammer and putting it to his head. "Pulling the trigger and going bang? _Every day_. Since I _started_ _soldiering_. And I can do it right now, in front of you."

Helm didn't think that Williams was being pathetic this time. And he wasn't scared for him, either. He simply nodded at the sincerity, believing the Golden Sergeant, and allowing him to continue.

"I've got a lot to answer for. And I'm _ready _to face the judgement of Our Lord and Creator when I finally meet Him. Then I squeeze the trigger, ever so slightly…then I _stop_. And _think_. Think about my wife and child, who love me and can't live without me. Who rely on me to keep them safe from harm. And cling onto the hope that there's a _better_ world out there.

"Then I think of all the people who believe in the Golden Sergeant, and the Queen of Swords for that matter, who are supporting us and believe in justice and a happy ending. And if I kill myself because of my weakness…then I take all those good, smiling faces down with me. They remember me to be a liar and a spineless traitor. And they _don't_ deserve that.

"Which is why I take the gun away from my head," Williams did so and pointed it out to nowhere, "and point it at the animal that's trying to hurt that wonderful human being. And keep on shooting and fighting. Until maybe one day…we do indeed live happily ever after. Like the fairy tale implies.

"That's why I _envy you_, Doctor. You were able to wash all that blood off your hands and do something _better_. It's _too late _for _me_. Yet you're able to put so many more smiles on faces and give the world _real_ hope by delivering babies, curing illnesses and giving humans something to hang onto. You do so much more to make a difference than me or the Queen ever could.

"The world needs more healers, in my opinion."

Helm cast his eyes sideways, the American's words making him think more than ever before. When he faced Williams again, he contently replied, "The grass is greener on the other side, eh? I still don't save enough people as I would like. And no matter how much I sterilise my hands, the blood is _always _there. If I'm bitter and prejudiced towards soldiers or those who use violence, then I have good reason. It's _not _worth it. You and Tessa may handle it so much better than me, but it's still not worth it.

"I know why you both have to do it but it costs so much. Too much. No man or woman should ever have to suffer like that. And is it any wonder that you two are stronger than me? Tessa had Marta to keep her strong. _You _have a whole _family _to comfort you in the day and night. I had no one, remember? Camilla? I think I told you about her? My chance to deal with the survivor's guilt. To live happily ever after. Instead of being a lonely drinker. Lost."

It was now Williams' turn to lower his head, thinking about Helm's words most carefully.

"You're right," he agreed. "It's _never_ worth it. I wish none of us had to do it. And maybe, you're right, maybe I did get the lucky break, after all. With Maria and Theresa. And I don't think that's fair, considering what happened to you after Napoleon. But that hasn't been true for a long time, has it? You struck pure gold, pal. You found _Tessa_. You found the _Queen_."

"True," conceded Helm, "but it still never ever goes away."

"Yeah," muttered Williams, looking the Doctor right in the eye. His look then quickly changed with alarm as he drew his pistol again and dived for the surprised Helm.

"GET DOWN!" yelled the American as he grappled them both to the ground and fired a shot, killing the bandit that was aiming for Doctor Helm with his rifle at the top of the canyon's cliff. The bandit's body rolled down the cliff face along with his rifle.

"Take cover!" ordered Lionel as he and Robert got up and fled for behind the hut. More shots fired, the horses panicked and kicked up, trying to get free from the water trough that they were tied to. Four more of Malcolm's men then rode into sight, soon surrounding the Doctor and the Golden Sergeant. Seeing a rock nearby, Helm grabbed for it and threw it hard for the nearest bandit's head. The hit was perfect, knocking the rider off his horse. Williams had reloaded his pistol and fired another shot, catching another rider in the shoulder and making him fall off.

But before Williams could reload again, the killer dove off his horse onto the sergeant, landing right on top of him, drawing his knife ready to stab the soldier right in the face. Williams beat him to it, though, with a wild fist that knocked the killer for six, allowing him to get back up on his feet.

Meanwhile, Doctor Helm narrowly avoided the sword swinging for his head by the passing rider and managed to swing his own knife at the right time, cutting the saddle's straps and making yet another bandit fall off his steed. Helm ran over to the murderer to make sure he was down for the count. The Englishman knew Williams could take care of himself, so he slowly approached his foe, tightening his grip on the blade. He knelt down and slowly reached for the criminal's shoulder, gently turning him over, knife at the ready.

And found himself slowly backing away as the murderer drew his handgun. He got up to his feet, and burst into an evil grin, displaying the little number of teeth he had left. Foul and disgusting, like he'd never ever brushed in his life. Helm failed to quell his disgust, the bandit laughed at his disgusted face and then readied to pull the trigger. Before he could though, the Doctor quickly grabbed his wrist, wrenching the gun out of the surprised murderer's grasp and striking him with a terrific left and right that _definitely _put him down for the count this time.

He then turned to hear the cry of pain. Williams had been caught by his opponent's knife right across the left arm and was put onto his back by a hard kick to the chest that winded him. Disorientated, Lionel could only widen his eyes and curse as the smiling savage mounted him and got ready to put his blade right through his forehead.

_Sorry, Maria_, Lionel secretly apologised, getting ready to meet his maker at long last.

"WILLIAMS!" yelled Robert, his voice echoing throughout the canyon, accompanied later by the ringing shot he fired that struck the murderer right in his back. The bandit immediately convulsed from the shot, his body seized by the wracking pain that made him drop the knife. He breathed hoarsely what he had left, his eyes rolled upward… and then finally went off to hell.

The shocked Lionel looked to the body beside him and nursed his chest, more out of fear than anything else. He then looked to Robert, who let his arm drop the pistol. The Doctor exhaled his guilt and torment over breaking his oath for the second time, and taking the life of another murderer.

Then he reminded himself that it was to save another's life.

Williams slowly got up and staggered over to Helm. They looked intently at one another, both seized by the clarity and the chill.

"You just saved my life," the sergeant wheezed, holding his right hand out to the doctor. "Thank you for that."

Robert looked down at the hand Lionel was offering him, then back at the soldier's grateful face.

"Likewise," he nodded wearily, shaking the soldier's hand. Both at long last coming to terms…and accepting the other.

"Come on," Williams seethed again, trying to get his breath back. "We've _got _to move."

"You took a hard hit," pointed out Doctor Helm, helping him over to sit down by the hut. "Let me listen to your chest first. I'll need to examine that gash on your arm also. Do as I say and we'll be out of here as quickly as possible."

A pained Williams nodded his agreement, wheezing, "Okay."

* * *

><p>Faraway in another part of the country, Colonel Montoya, Captain Grisham and virtually the entire garrison were riding out in force to apprehend both Sergeant Williams and Doctor Helm. Scouring every canyon, patrolling every road, surveying every residential area to find the fugitives.<p>

Montoya smiled contently. He knew that Malcolm Conrad had indeed been telling the truth about his brother. And the 'dashing bride to be', but all that was irrelevant, really. It all tied in perfectly to what the governor had in mind. Williams breaking out of jail was essentially an admission of his 'guilt', as was his wife fleeing with the Queen of Swords. And with Doctor Helm 'aiding and abetting' the Golden Sergeant…well, it'd be costly, but also would be worth seeing the last of the irritating Englishman.

They'd soon have them all, even the Queen, at long last. The conviction of Williams would discredit not only him but all his loyalists, meaning they'd all be replaced by Conrad and his circle, re-establishing Montoya's dominion back in Santa Helena at long last, and buying him favour with the Spanish Court as well for 'sterling work'.

And even if it all went pear-shaped like it had too many times…Malcolm was ultimately expendable. His death would allow him control over his men. Or even if they were all stopped, and even if Williams could clear his name…nothing would ever be able to connect Montoya to this.

Everyone's word against the Colonel's.

"Something on your mind, Colonel?" asked Ambassador Enriquez, riding up alongside him. Montoya turned to study the new Ambassador for a moment. He and his elite guard had done very well in riding along the Santa Helena forces. Enriquez was evidently a very capable man, matching the stamina and courage of the governor and his men, to ride out alongside them personally, to apprehend criminals and uncover the truth. The fact that he was even here was perfect in Montoya's eyes. His victory right in front of the Ambassador would doubtless cement his standing as a great, powerful historical figure.

"Merely the task at hand, Ambassador Enriquez," replied the Colonel. "The separate parties are covering the entire countryside. We will doubtless have the criminal fugitives apprehended so very soon."

"_That _I will be pleased to witness. You have shown me the…evidence regarding Andrew Conrad and Elizabeth Parker and I am prepared to accept Malcolm Conrad's story. But so far I have yet to hear the stories of the _accused_."

"Surely, sir, the actions of Andrew Conrad, his wife and Doctor Helm speak for themselves."

"Perhaps. But there are still loose ends in this conspiracy that do _not _tie up. Given your status, I am willing to take your word. But know this, Colonel, I will reserve judgement and sentence only until this affair is _completely _over. If any developments arise that I do not like the sound of, you _and _Captain Grisham will pay the price for it. Is that understood?"

"Absolutely, Ambassador Enriquez," nodded Montoya, smiling professionally. "You have nothing to worry about."

"Indeed, Colonel Montoya. But _you _do."

Enriquez moved on, leaving the corrupt governor indifferent over the ambassador's warning. He just retained his confident smug smile.

_I very much doubt that, Enriquez_, grinned Montoya as he snapped the reins of his horse. _Whatever happens is GOOD for ME. Whatever the outcome…I still win._


	4. Honour and Glory

_Disclaimer: Queen of Swords was created by Fireworks Entertainment, and is owned by ContentFilm. This story is NOT affiliated with the rights holders or the show's original creators. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made. This story is for entertainment purposes only._

_The author would like to thank Robert Vincent for all his valuable support and input._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13: Honour and Glory<strong>

"_Remember, Liz…if a guy or a gal is ASKING for it…NEVER feel bad about giving them 'what for'._

It had been her eldest brother Jonathan who had taught Elizabeth that on her sixteenth birthday. Their father had planned a party for her at their mansion, but Jonathan and their twin brothers (Thomas and Timothy), had planned a 'real party' for Elizabeth. Taking her to _The Mountain Gate _the night before at the stroke of midnight, as she turned sixteen.

It was a rowdy, raucous inn, usually packed with the burly and surly. Brawls and lock-ins there were notoriously commonplace. Liz's taste for adventuring and desire to show that she belonged in a man's world was what made her ask her brothers if she could go to the inn.

Without her father knowing, obviously.

It was a bar where the lower classes gathered, to sing and mock their snobbish taskmasters and the 'filthy rich'. Yet it served the best rustic food and hearty booze for miles around. John, Tom and Tim always loved sneaking off their after carrying out their father's work and going down for a laugh. Engineers and builders, the 'Parker Boys' felt they belonged in _The Mountain Gate_, working as hard as any of the rabble that gathered there. And of course, defending their family name and enjoying a few pints whilst doing so couldn't hurt.

Maria recalled that night so fondly. Telling the landlord to 'stick it' when he said no women were allowed, downing her first-ever pint in one go, eating meat off the bone, dancing on tables, singing dirty songs…

All the things her father would KILL her for doing.

Then after the festivities, one drunken lout had said she'd make a 'spunky bride' for him. And he wouldn't take no for an answer. Elizabeth had tried to get away from him…but he'd angrily grabbed his wrist, and shoved her against the table, leering into the aristocrat's face.

Remembering what John had told her, Liz had smashed a glass bottle over his head, making him see stars. The night brawl had started, and Liz grinned, punched, broke chairs, swung from the chandelier, kicking teeth down people's throats, all the while blowing kisses to her fallen foes. Upon graduating the art of bar room brawling (with honours), Elizabeth downed more beer with her brothers.

Whilst wearing her best dress throughout the whole evening.

Maria could remember it all like it was just yesterday. The tasty food, belching out booze vapours, singing those naughty rhymes, surviving her very first public brawl, and finishing the late-night adventure with a spirited horse ride with her brothers, making it back home with their father none-the-wiser.

Group-hugging all her brothers in gratitude, Elizabeth Parker laughed, _"This has been the best birthday of my life!"_

Perhaps that experience was what was keeping Maria Williams alive here and now.

"_When kicking ass…have fun doing it," said Thomas._

"_Only treat things seriously when things GET serious," advised Timothy._

Those fighting strategies rang true in Maria's memory here and now. Malcolm and his men had picked up the Queen's trail in no time and tracked them to the stables at Alunya Canyon. Malcolm had made them all stop, sending most of the group away to keep chasing after the horse trail. No fool, Conrad and a few others had stayed behind and began searching the stables.

Maria had done what the Queen had told her. She'd hidden in the rotting, smelly shack and stayed out of sight. She'd heard the horses arrive and remained hidden, remembering the common sense tactic, _"Defend yourself only when you have to". _They'd kicked the door of the disused shack down, and immediately saw a smashed window on the far wall.

The outlaws immediately realised their prey had escaped. And Mrs Williams immediately took the moment to jump off the shack's roof and land on top of them both, feet first. She'd picked herself up off the ground, blew the unconscious gentlemen a kiss, and drew her sword to protect herself.

Not feeling in the least bit bad about giving these men what they deserved - especially after they tried to kill her and burn down her home - Maria had proceeded to let off steam by beating the outlaws black and blue, and have enormous fun doing it.

That survival strategy had served all of Nigel Parker's children well on the schoolyard…and on the battlefield. According to the twins, it was _stage one _of their 'coping mechanism'. Maria remembered this as she fought for her life. Malcolm's men were tougher and sharper than Montoya's soldiers, but Maria's wit, speed and superior skill soon disarmed them all.

Here and now, though…things had just become much more serious.

_Stage two_ of the Parker 'fight and survive' mentality began when Maria had taken down five men in total. She'd snatched another sword from an outlaw's grasp before putting him down for the count. Maria had then looked over her shoulder to see that Malcolm was standing there, arms folded and grinning.

He'd been watching her fight his men from the sidelines. And then applauded her 'victory'.

Taking no chances, Maria had dropped one of the swords and drawn her pistol instead, but Malcolm had been quicker on the draw. The bullet caught Maria's left arm, only grazing superficially thanks to her reflexes. It still hurt though, leaving Maria with a choice of either dropping her remaining sword to clutch her fresh injury, thus leaving herself wide open…

Or deal with the pain and carry on fighting.

She'd chosen the latter.

Blocking Conrad's sword, Maria spun her opponent round and straight-kicked him right in the shoulder, where the Queen's knife had been imbedded earlier. The outlaw screamed over his wound, which had been sewn up immediately by one of his men. He'd lost blood, the scar was now permanent and it still hindered him even now. The former lovers took a moment to nurse their wounds and stared at each other before renewing the duel.

Maria's speed and skill pressed got the early advantage, driving the traitor away but the far-more-experienced Malcolm countered by shoving her back hard against the horse cart, grinning as his sword edged closer to Maria's throat. She'd gotten her own sabre up to block, but Malcolm was overpowering her, to push the blade aside so his own weapon could touch her skin. Mrs Williams grunted as her strength started to fail. Malcolm's own sadistic grin grew ever so slightly.

It then transformed into a wide mouthed squeal as Maria got her knee up sharply into Conrad's genitals. His force slackened and Maria followed it up with her fist right in the eye.

Malcolm's dead and scarred eye.

"That was for saying you loved me!" she yelled angrily as he screamed over the wound Maria had given him on their wedding day.

"You miserable bitch!" the outlaw shouted back, no longer in the mood for games. He knocked Maria's sabre out of her hand and then swung his own fast and wide. The tip of the blade nicked her left cheek, just below the eye. Lionel's wife cried out again, her fingers relinquishing her sword's hilt as she fell to the ground, putting her hand over where the blade had cut.

"Ooohh, _nearly_," snarled the American outlaw, standing over his sister-in-law as he grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head up off the ground. Maria's alarmed eyes cast downward as she saw her own blood stain the ground.

"Guess you know now why daddy never wanted your pretty little face to get all dirty. He wanted to make you just as much a woman as he was. He certainly squealed like one when he _fried_."

"Shut up about him!" yelled Maria angrily, as she twisted her body and stretched her right leg, sweeping Malcolm's own feet from underneath him. He landed awkwardly on his waist, giving Mrs Williams a chance to make a grab for her weapon.

The American housewife resumed her stance, just as her brother-in-law stood up again. Maria's eyes narrowed in focus, trying to get Malcolm's taunts out of her head. The outlaw laughed mockingly as he lunged at her. Maria deflected the thrust, and then blocked the overhead strike. The swordplay continued, getting faster and faster. Relying on her husband's training, Maria ultimately succeeded in parrying Malcolm's weapon to the ground, allowing her to kick it out of his grasp. But before she could administer the killing strike, Malcolm grabbed her throat and started to squeeze.

"Too close, Elizabeth," he grinned evilly as he used his hand to twist Maria's wrist violently, making her loose the sword. "But down and dirty is you all over, eh?"

Maria choked for air, as Malcolm blew a kiss of his own at her. Maria then spat in his face, and brought her fists down hard on his wrist, making him release her. She used her right to give him a bloody nose (staggering him), and busted his mouth with her left to put him on the ropes. She then quickly drew her knife to finish it, but Malcolm had shifted his sight to see the large rock to his side.

He turned back to face her one-time fiancée, who came close to imbed the knife in his abdomen. Using Maria's own momentum against her, Malcolm spun her round and threw her down hard. Maria fell spine first onto the rock, crying out in pain as the sharp, rough shape severely grazed and bruised her back, even underneath her clothing.

Maria rolled onto the ground, clenching her teeth to quell the pain. She opened her eyes to see her lost dagger only a few inches away from her grasp. Reaching out for her last chance, Mrs Williams' chances of victory were ultimately dashed as Malcolm gently lifted _her _sword underneath her chin.

"That brother of mine," Conrad nodded, his face sorely bruised and his nose and mouth bleeding profusely from Maria's hard punches. "He didn't do a bad job teaching you."

"Screw you," grimaced Maria fiercely.

"Idiot." The outlaw recognised her provocation to kill her. "Live bait always catches bigger fish than the dead kind."

He then kicked Maria hard in the face, sending her deep into the blackness of defeat.

* * *

><p>Williams should have been concentrating on the task at hand. He should've been working on his plan to save his family, stop his own brother, clear his name…<p>

But as he and Doctor Helm rode on, all the disgraced soldier could think about was one thing.

_I nearly died back there_.

_And it wasn't Montoya, Grisham or even Malcolm. It was some nameless punk whose face I've already forgotten. Quicker, younger and knew exactly where to hit._

Lionel grunted a little rubbing his chest. It still hurt, more than the gash on his arm, more than the vicious beats Grisham had given him back in the jail.

_So precise. Helm said it shocked my heart good and proper. Never been dealt a blow like that, no wonder it scared the hell out of me. These kids are getting better…and I'm not getting any wiser._

_It doesn't occur to me as much as it should that one day I won't make it home. All these years of fighting and surviving, getting out of hell by the skin of my teeth…and I still think there are times when I'm indestructible, that Theresa will have nothing to worry about. Daddy always comes home. You'll always be safe and sound._

_And Maria…I ask her to put up with all this without question? She says she can face all the pain with me. She's such a trooper, she always has been. And yet, for all that courage and strength…I know she'll be devastated when one night Montoya and Grisham knock on our door and tell her that I'm never coming home again._

_I'm thirty-eight years old. I'm approaching FORTY. For all Tessa's joking around, she's right. I AM getting old, TOO old for this. I should be thinking of retiring and settling down. But how can I when my job isn't finished? And probably won't be for another ten years?_

_THIS is what I've given my family? THIS is what I expect us all to deal with in Santa Helena? For any more kids Maria and me may decide to have? No quiet little abode, no happy adventures? Just an ongoing life-and-death struggle with seemingly no end in sight?_

_God, please…HELP me._

As they now entered the Canyon Pass, Robert Helm looked to Lionel Williams. Both could now allow their horses a slow trot. They hadn't encountered any more trouble for the last hour. Upon fleeing the Briscoe Canyon ambush, Lionel's breathing had slowed down to a steadier pace. The gash on his left arm was only superficial and easily bandaged. But the kick that Lionel had taken had shocked his system. The Doctor had listened to his chest to discover that his heartbeat was very erratic, and rest was required to calm him back down.

Anyone else would probably have dropped dead instantly from a blow like that. But the soldier's toughness and strong heart had saved him. So Helm's diagnosis was that Williams would physically be fine.

_Mentally_ was something else altogether. The Doctor could read the Golden Sergeant's face. Helm knew exactly what he was thinking. Lionel likewise looked at Robert, knowing that he owed him big for saving his life, and breaking his oath to do it. Mercifully though, it didn't hurt the Englishman as much this time, probably because he'd learnt to accept all the blood on his hands.

As the Queen of Swords had taught him long ago.

"Doctor! Sergeant!" came the familiar voice, right on cue, as she and Chico came round the bend.

"Queen!" Helm called back, as the two men ordered their horses to stop. Chico likewise halted and the masked avenger asked concerned, "What happened? Are you okay?"

Realising that she'd noticed his swollen lip, Robert downplayed, "Just a little scuffle. Angry patients, Your Highness."

The masked Tessa smiled warmly at him.

"How about you?"

"Average day. Can't complain," she replied, grinning. The Doctor smiled back, and then the Queen noticed that Williams was clearly distressed. And it ran deeper than the frame-up Montoya had initiated. One look at the American's face was all it took. It went beyond the vicious contusions – _Grisham's handiwork_, realised the Queen – there was shock, real fear, and all kinds of ghosts haunting the Golden Sergeant.

Williams tried to hide both his own loneliness, and his all-too visible weaknesses.

"Williams…" asked the Avenging Angel, now serious. "Are you alright?"

"_No_," exhaled the soldier, albeit rather hoarsely. "Where's my daughter? Where's my wife? Has anything happened?"

The Queen of Swords paused gravely for a moment before telling Lionel in a calm, yet direct voice, "Malcolm attacked Maria. He tried to burn your house down." Lionel's heart raced and then slowed when the Avenging Angel explained after, "She's absolutely fine, and so is your house. She's hiding out at Alunya Canyon. Theresa's safe with Marta at the Alvarado Hacienda."

Williams' face was overwhelmed with relief. He sighed a grateful, "Thank God," as Chico trotted closer to the soldier's horse, allowing the vigilante to hand him the portfolio containing the evidence.

"Maria will never give up on you," relayed the Queen.

"She _did _figure it out," smiled Williams, touched. He opened the portfolio, and flicked through the various documents and reports.

"That's my girl," he said to himself, proud of his wife for deciphering his riddle. His mood then changed abruptly as he stopped flicking through the papers and asked the masked Tessa intently, "Maria…_Elizabeth_…she told you who we really are?"

"Yes."

A content Lionel nodded, and then closed the folder, putting it in the satchel on his saddle.

"There's one thing I don't understand," asked the Avenging Angel.

"Oh?"

"Maria told me that Montoya had read your file when you came to California, including the official report of what really happened back in America."

"That's true," confirmed Williams.

"So how come Montoya didn't know about your real name and of your brother until today?"

"Security measure," the soldier explained. "When we had our names legally changed, I used my influence to change my record, too. _Officially_…Williams was _always_ my family name. And I _never_ had a brother. And my reckoning was that everything that had happened, I was _entitled_ to say that."

"And everything else was left true?" asked Doctor Helm.

"Complete fact. We only changed our names and removed all family ties to Malcolm, and that's it. It was the only way we could throw off our pursuers and safely escape to Spain."

"And somehow Malcolm got copies of the report and his old credentials and doctored the story," finished the masked Tessa. "Why, though?"

"Greed, envy, obsession to overcome his failings and shortcomings, always living in the shadow of his more successful brother," offered Lionel solemnly. "He wants Maria. He always has." After a brooding pause, he then finished, "This is all my fault. All of it."

"Lionel," the Queen of Swords gently reminded, "We can't hang around here any longer. I had a run-in with Malcolm's men on my way here, and I barely managed to deal with them. He'll stop at nothing to get those papers. On top of that, I only just avoided being spotted by Montoya, Grisham and the whole Garrison. _They'll_ shoot to kill to cover up the truth."

"That's a very comforting thought," muttered Helm. "What about Ambassador Enriquez?"

"Riding along personally with the colonel."

"If Enriquez is with them, then that could help us and hinder Montoya and Grisham," thought Williams, the gears in his head turning to produce a plan. "Whatever the outcome, it all relies on him. We've got to try and win him over instead of Montoya."

"Lionel, Montoya's already won him over," pointed out Robert. "You said he took away your rights and connections…"

"Enriquez still won't shoot first and ask questions later. He'll want to hear cases from all involved before he passes sentence…"

"So what do you suggest?" asked the Queen.

Looking back to the vigilante, the soldier asked, "Take me to Maria."

"That's _too_ dangerous. It's what Malcolm and Montoya will be expecting."

"I _don't _care," Williams insisted, now setting his priorities. "Maria's more important to me than anything else. I can't bear the thought of Malcolm finding her."

"If you clear your name first, you'd ensure Maria's safety more if the garrison was on your side."

"Queen…" implored the Golden Sergeant, trying to restrain his tears of fear, "the _only_ people I can count on right now is you and the doctor. I _have _to see her. I'm _begging _you. _Please_."

The Queen of Swords could see Sergeant Williams dangerously close to breaking point. Normally, he was so courageous, so tough, so strong. Even when he'd nearly lost his family to Sergeant Pablo, Williams had coped much better. Which begged the question…

_Just how much more can he…can any of us take?_ thought the Queen, really feeling for the one good soldier she'd ever known. She and Doctor Helm faced each other, both remembering how there was so much more than either had originally let on. Their own pasts, their own secrets, all their pain and suffering…

Robert's desire to atone for the blood on his hands, Tessa's desire to uncover the identity of her father's killers, their respective loves for Camilla and Antonio, and how by only confessing and helping the other were they able to move on and finally seal their own love.

And ever since the Williams family had arrived…they were also in need of help, to open up and heal. No different than what the Queen and the Doctor had gone through over the last year and a half.

Looking to the desperate sergeant, the masked Tessa smiled, "We fight for each other, remember?"

* * *

><p>"Wake up, Elizabeth…wake up…wakey, wakey, wakey…"<p>

Malcolm's haunting voice, the throbbing bruise to her back, the searing cut under her eye…all brought Maria back into the waking world. It was tarnished, though, with a hammering head and blurry vision. Malcolm _had_ kicked her hard, she remembered, then wondered if she'd been hit hard enough to get a concussion.

She felt sick, woozy…and uncomfortable in more ways than one. Her hands were tied behind her back, and her legs were tied to a chair. She was back in the disgusting, humid shack, the rising summer heat making it even more unbearable.

But it was nothing compared to the grinning, battered bogeyman and his pistol pointed at her face.

_Again_.

"I know you gave those papers to the Queen of Swords," the outlaw began, his remaining yellow teeth bearing at her. "And that was pointless. My men will find her and destroy that folder."

"Yeah, right," mocked Maria.

"You're giving that crazy little girl too much damned credit. I'll skin her alive," he boasted, drawing a knife and licking it clean, "and then when your _hubby_ inevitably shows up…I will do to him what he tried to do to me. Just so you know." He emphasised his point by making a slow peeling motion with his blade, and chuckling sinisterly.

"Like I said…" said Maria, unimpressed, "yeah, right."

Malcolm jammed his pistol harder into Maria's eye. Despite the threat and the nightmarish situation she was in, Mrs Williams refused to cave in.

"You really aren't afraid of me, aren't you?"

"Once I was…but I'm not now. Because I know what you really are. Just scared and desperate. Not like my husband, not like my friends. That's why you'll lose."

"Oh, yeah?"

He withdrew his gun, rolled up Maria's sleeve to expose the skin on her left arm, and then placed the tip of his knife on the spot above her elbow.

"We'll see how brave you are when the sharks finally come."

Maria screamed as the sharp metal pierced her skin and made her bleed.

Again.

* * *

><p><em>It's like a ghost town, <em>thought Lionel, as he peeked round the stable. _I HATE ghost towns._

Neither the army nor the outlaws had wasted any time in patrolling all the major routes since Lionel's breakout. The Queen had been right when she'd said she'd had serious problems evading the colonel and the ambassador. It didn't matter whether they were Montoya's followers or William's loyalists, soldiers were soldiers here, and they could take no chances.

Malcolm's men were many, but they'd been scattered. Having been divided and conquered throughout the town and the country, Lionel theorised that his brother would surely keep a few around him at all times, the remainder and the best. It was his nature.

It'd taken too long (for Williams' liking) to make it to Alunya Canyon, but they'd managed to get there without incident. They'd wisely opted to survey the site from faraway cover rather than just ride into a potential trap. The Queen had studied the scene through her spyglass. There was evidence of a battle, and there were some men on the ground that looked like they wouldn't wake up until next week.

But there was no sign of Maria or Malcolm.

After agreeing on a course of action with Tessa and Robert, Lionel had slowly ventured onto the stable grounds, weapons at the ready. The Golden Sergeant knew he had to put all his pain aside, refuse to let the chill in the air unnerve him. Maria was in more danger now than she'd been eleven years ago.

_I WON'T lose her, _vowed Williams to himself, as he slowly crept round the shack. _Not to Malcolm. Not to anyone or anything._

Peeking through the window frame and shards of glass, Lionel couldn't see much, except someone in a coat and hat, tied to a chair in the corner of the shack with their back turned on him. Initially confused, Lionel suspected a trap, thinking it didn't look like Maria. Upon focusing, though…Williams could see blood spilt over the floor.

Along with Maria's locket that she never took off.

Panic instantly overrode the soldier and he kicked the door down off its hinges, and charged in with his pistol to get a closer look. Lionel tried to keep calm as he slowly approached the figure tied in the chair. All remained deathly quiet

"Maria…?" asked her husband tentatively. But as soon as he touched the body, he didn't feel flesh and bone. It felt _soft;_ the clothing was stuffed like a teddy bear. Realising he'd been had, Lionel angrily swung the chair around to discover just old clothes filled with straw from the stables. The hat fell onto the floor, showered by more straw that flew out everywhere as Lionel screamed his rage, kicking the dummy and smashing the chair.

Then Malcolm pistol-whipped him hard across the back of the head. Lionel fell to the floor, clutching his head and groaning as he looked up to see Malcolm laughing at his brother, while pressing his pistol against the crying Maria's head.

"You break it, you bought it…dummy," sniggered the outlaw.

"Stop it!" yelled Mrs Williams. "Just stop it!"

"No," her brother-in-law said simply. Lionel slowly started to get up, and looked at his wife. The sight of Maria's bruises, the nasty cut over her cheek, her bleeding nose, and the deep gash on her right arm angered Lionel. He paid no attention to the beats and bleeds that Maria had inflicted on Malcolm.

"Outside now," ordered the traitor to his brother. "Try anything and I'll blow her brains out."

"_Touch her again…and I'll execute you myself this time." _As Malcolm slowly backed out of the shack, the Golden Sergeant slowly followed. And as they stepped out into the open air, Lionel knew that he would uphold his earlier vow.

"Here we are again, Andrew," remarked Malcolm, with Maria still his helpless captive. The three Americans stopped on the grounds of Alunya Canyon. Lionel knew what Malcolm was doing. Aside from the stables, there were all kinds of ideal cover Malcolm's men could pick the soldier off from. Fences, bushes, rocks; and both Lionel and Maria were now in the lion's den.

And Maria was in the lion's clutches.

"Let her go, Malcolm," said Lionel.

"She's mine, Andrew!" laughed Malcolm, word-for-word eleven years later. "Like she always should've been! And like she's going to be as we go to hell together! And you can't stop me because if you kill me, she'll die with me!"

"I'll never go to hell with you," said Maria, her teary eyes dead-locked on Lionel's own.

"Deviating from the script, Liz? That's not like you."

"Even if I die, I'll never be with you. I made my choice all those years ago. Why couldn't you make yours with _someone else_?"

"SHUT – UP," warned Malcolm icily.

"It's a serious question," stressed Maria's wife. "One you've avoided all your life, Malcolm. You could've been as happy and successful as Lionel…yet you threw it all out the window out of spite. Why? Just tell us why."

"You wanna ask serious questions? My turn, then. Why do you honestly think you're not going to Hell with _me_? Why are you so swooned by _him_?"

Lionel just stared, his mind numb with the love for his wife. His heart ready to be torn apart by her impending death. Right in front of him.

"What makes him better than me?" demanded Malcolm, pointing his pistol angrily at his brother. "He's no different! He's butchered and betrayed family! He's got a first-class ticket to Hell! And _you're_ no different either, are you? You've got blood on your hands! You've no respect for authority! You've lied and sinned more times than you can count! You threw away civilities and class to live rough and violent! You're more suited to me than a coward like him who actually thinks he can be redeemed! So tell me, Elizabeth! WHY – NOT –ME?"

"You don't have any soul left, Malcolm," croaked Maria, refusing to take his eyes off Lionel. "So you'll never understand."

"Soul-mate, eh? Well, then…"

He pressed the gun back against Maria's head. Her tears flowed more, and the thought of Lionel being taken away from her became even more unbearable.

"Do you really think you'll get a happy ending with Andrew?" asked Malcolm intently. "Where has being with him gotten you? A life on the run to Spain, followed by enslavement at Bonaparte's hands, blood, blood and more blood and only to wind up _here_, enemies of a corrupt state…"

"_Worth it_," Maria told Lionel truthfully. The Golden Sergeant's own tears intensified, trailing down his frozen face, and his heart moved by such loyalty and love.

Malcolm didn't speak. He just glared at his brother, whose unblinking eyes refused to leave Maria's.

"And you'll never stop believing that? That you'll both live happily ever after, in spite of all the suffering before? And all that's still to come?"

"_Yes_," Mrs Williams fiercely resolved.

"Wrong answer."

Malcolm cocked his pistol, making Lionel snap back to reality.

"NO!"

Without thinking, Lionel ran over to stop Malcolm from pulling the trigger. The outlaw just smirked and turned his aim to his older brother. Taking advantage, Maria kicked her leg sharply up into Malcolm's genitals again. The outlaw exclaimed but still held onto his gun. Before the enraged killer could do anything else, Maria lowered her head and brought it back up into Malcolm's nose. The reverse head-butt stung Malcolm, bloodying his nose more, but Maria was worse-off. Malcolm's head was harder, and the earlier fears of a concussion became justified. Maria's dizziness grew wilder, and the pain of her head banging Malcolm's had been reckless.

But the tactic had worked, allowing Lionel to get close enough to strike Malcolm hard across the face, finally making him let go of both the pistol and Maria. As he fell to the ground, the soldier and his wife ran for cover.

"What are you waiting for, you idiots?" yelled Malcolm, spitting out the dirt from his mouth, trying to pick himself up. "Shoot them!"

But only four of his men emerged from their hiding places to open fire. As Lionel and Maria ran, Malcolm turned round to wonder why his men hidden in the stables hadn't emerged. Seconds later, the gates sprang open, and the outlaws' horses fled in a panic brought on by the gunfire. Their owners – Malcolm now realised – had been knocked out and tied up.

His men distracted by the fleeing horses, Malcolm could only watch as one fell from the roof of the stables, thanks to a thrown rock that knocked him out. He then saw the arms of another man grab his gunman stationed behind the horse cart.

Then he turned at the sound of another horse's cry.

Chico galloped onto the scene, with the Queen swinging her bolas above her head. After building enough momentum, she threw the corded weights at the criminal wielding a rifle behind the bushes. The boleadora entangled his arms, making him drop his weapon. The Queen rode by, punching the outlaw in the face as she passed. With Chico still galloping, the Queen of Swords spotted the last of Malcolm's men spring from the nearby rock shelter to her right-hand side and take aim at her. With no other option, she quickly drew her knife and threw it into the man's chest, killing him instantly.

Turning her attention to Malcolm, the Queen saw him draw his sword and strike out against her right leg. She immediately yanked her foot out of the stirrup, and tucked her leg up to miss the blade. Malcolm's sword ended up slicing nothing but girth. However, her abrupt stop and the sword coming too close for Chico's comfort, startled the horse. He kicked up and the masked Tessa couldn't stop herself from falling off her steed.

She landed as best she could to reduce the risk of injury, but the impact was too hard for her liking. Tessa groaned and then looked up in alarm to see Malcolm holding his sword up high, ready to bring it down on her face. She got her feet up, planting them in Malcolm's stomach and then grabbed his coat to throw him over her.

Quickly getting back to her feet to face Malcolm, the Queen drew her rapier. Conrad was back up now also, his sabre drawn as the two adversaries engaged in the face-off.

"Can I just say how much I've longed for this chance to feed _you_ your _entrails_?" grinned Conrad, bearing his horrible yellow teeth.

"That's not very nice," tutted the Queen, condescendingly. "No wonder your parents loved your brother more than you."

The screaming Malcolm lunged forward with the first attack. Despite his dubious appearance, he was fast, strong and skilled, almost as good as Sergeant Williams. The vigilante was soon forced on the defensive, blocking the lunges, swings and thrusts with triangles to stop the sabre from touching her.

Knowing that she had to stop Malcolm's fierce advance, the Avenging Angel ducked the swing that nearly took her head off and rebounded with an upwards swing that caught Conrad right across the chest, tearing his shirt and inflicting first blood. He backed away, foaming at the mouth, gritting his teeth and bearing the pain, as the stone-faced Queen stood in her duelling stance and glared at him.

"That's for Maria," she explained, no longer in a joking mood. Malcolm just laughed and renewed his attack. Tessa blocked and deflected accordingly, and then used her superior quickness to drive Malcolm back. She upped the ante, knowing that negating Malcolm's superior strength was the only way she could beat him.

Meanwhile, Lionel and Maria had regrouped with Doctor Helm, who immediately saw Maria's injuries and recognised her concussed state. They retreated into the stables and Lionel and Robert sat the wounded, disorientated Maria down to examine her.

Helm took her coat off and then inspected where she'd been shot first, on her left arm. Then looked at where the knife had cut her above her right elbow. Lionel exhaled his horror and anger over what his own brother had done to his wife.

"Maria, can you feel that?" asked Robert, gently pressing near the wounds on her arms, hoping there was no nerve damage.

"Yeah…" she winced slightly, feeling like was she going to be sick. "My back's really hurting, though."

"Let me lift your shirt up." The surgeon then proceeded to examine where Maria had been thrown onto the rock. It was a nasty graze indeed, with some inflamed bruising. As the Doctor felt the injury, Maria clenched her teeth, trying to cope with the painful throbbing from both her head and back.

"Is she going to be alright?" Lionel asked desperately.

"I think it's mostly superficial," explained Helm, turning to get his bag for bandages, cotton and iodine.

"Mostly?"

"Some of the wounds are nothing major, just narrow scrapes. But she's lost blood." Noting Maria's dizziness, the doctor furthered, "I'll need to get her back to my office for a proper examination. I'm concerned about that bruise on her spine more than anything. I think she may have a concussion from when Malcolm kicked her."

Everyone's attention directed to outside. First at the sound of the Queen crying out in pain, followed by what sounded like several horses stampeding.

"Montoya…" dreaded Doctor Helm.

"Or more of Malcolm's men," joined in Williams. "Either way, it's bad."

"You've got to help Tessa," insisted Maria, shaking her head to clear her clouded focus. Lionel hesitated and looked over his shoulder in worry. Turning back to his wife, the soldier asked, "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Always, slugger," she winked, grinning wearily as she touched his arm. Williams returned a determined smile, and then said, "Robert, stay here and keep her safe."

"Yes, Sergeant," he promised. Lionel gave Maria one last look and then drew his sword as he ran back outside.

The Queen grimaced as Malcolm exerted more pressure, tightening his arm around her neck as she struggled to get free, and stop the knife from getting closer. She'd been able to disarm Conrad with her usual trick smacking his wrist and snatching his sword out his hand. Now with two swords, the Avenging Angel got them up to his throat to force him to surrender, but Malcolm just cocked his head to concede he was impressed before using his left leg to trip the Queen up.

The fall to the ground had surprised her enough to make her drop both swords. And then Malcolm had drawn another knife, laughing and trying to stab her. The Queen then cried out as the blade slashed her shoulder, making it bleed profusely. Grimacing and clutching her injury protectively, Tessa tried to evade more strikes before gritting her teeth and trying to counter. It resulted in Malcolm now being in a position to either break her neck or slit her throat.

Then the Queen's eyes widened upon the sight of the cavalry growing ever nearer. Malcolm laughed victoriously upon seeing his 'insurance'. Six more of his men to help turn the tide.

"Stop struggling, babe," grinned Conrad savagely. "We'll be even soon."

"You reckon, huh?" she asked fiercely, before elbowing him hard in the stomach and kicking his shin. Despite being winded and hobbled, Malcolm still wouldn't let go of the vigilante. Determined to get free, the masked Tessa leaned back and then bowed her spine, throwing Conrad over her. Finally free, the Queen ran over to reclaim her rapier. The American outlaw got back up fast and likewise picked up his weapon.

"You still haven't paid for what you did to Lionel," she vowed, getting ready to engage Conrad again.

"Thanks for reminding me."

Malcolm turned round to face the voice's owner and was greeted with a right hook that staggered him. The stunned avenger watched as the Golden Boy stepped in-between her and the growling Conrad who recovered to face him.

"Help Maria and Doctor Helm," ordered the sergeant. "Stop _them_." He cocked his head to the armed bandits that had now dismounted and were charging towards them.

"I'll deal with _him_," insisted Williams, his cold eyes deadlocked on his brother.

"Are you _sure_?" Tessa asked concerned.

"I'm _sure_, Queen."

As the swordswoman left to engage the odds, Malcolm just chuckled condescendingly at Lionel, whose face and heart had now turned cold.

"You actually formed an _alliance _with _her_? Naughty, naughty. Mom and Dad'll be rolling in their graves knowing that you…"

Williams' fist smashed right into Conrad's scarred eye, making him stagger and scream. After howling and panting for a few moments, Malcolm looked up to see Lionel just staring at him in disappointment.

"I should've been you," sneered the outlaw.

"Here's your last chance," challenged the soldier.

Then the swords clashed. Fast, furious, wild. Neither brother held back, both knew it would be to the death. It had to be, there was no other way. For Malcolm, it was perfectly fine by him. And for Andrew…after everything that had happened since Malcolm escaped his execution, he had no alternative. He would _have_ to be the executioner _himself_ this time.

All the crimes Malcolm had committed, not just in general, but against Elizabeth were inexcusable. Malcolm had used her rejection as an excuse to destroy her whole life. Her wealth, her home, her father. He'd stalked her, used her as a pawn, a tool, a weapon to destroy Andrew, instead of confronting him directly.

And it was a crime Lionel simply could not forgive.

The two blood brothers were evenly matched, neither leaving an opening for the other to exploit, neither allowing themselves to falter, as they raged on. And as they battled, they couldn't help but reflect.

Think back to the days when they played with wooden swords in their parents' garden, to when they trained together, when they enlisted in the army, to sparring sessions…to here and now. What had started as play-fighting had grown into white-hot warring.

All brought on by Malcolm's insecurities…and Lionel's guilt.

Their blades then locked and grappled with each other. Conrad and Williams snarled at each other, both refusing to yield.

"Even if you beat me, what then?" taunted Malcolm. "Huh? HUH? Santa Helena's no different than any other hell hole on the planet! Foul, corrupt, stinking liars killing each other for money and power! Fat cowards and their little sluts just poncing around! And disease-ridden beggars grovelling for food, not realising that they're _already_ dead!

"People like me and Montoya? We don't just populate the world, we OWN it! Dictated as such by an evil world! One that'll simply consume all bleeding hearts like you and the Queen!

"You'll never ever redeem this town, let alone the world! And you'll end up suffering for your efforts until the day you die! SO WHY DO YOU EVEN BOTHER?"

Lionel screamed and grappled Malcolm's sword away. Surprised, Conrad felt his weapon fly from his grasp. Then acting on instinct, Lionel twisted his sword and thrust it right through Malcolm's torso. Shocked, Conrad's mouth went wide with trickling blood. He sagged to his knees with his frozen eyes focusing on the final visages of his own brother angrily saying…

"Because _I_ say it's all worth fighting for…_stranger_."

Then without saying another word, Lionel pulled his sword out of Malcolm's body, raised his hand up high…and mercilessly brought the blade down.

Beheading him.

…

The executioner's roars echoed.

Having long dispatched the remaining outlaws, The Queen of Swords could only grapple internally with her shock, the scream of horror that wanted to be heard for miles around.

Maria had also seen what had happened, running out of the stables followed by Doctor Helm, who was still trying to tend to her. Both the soldier's wife and the surgeon were numb with shock as they saw Williams' trembling hand let go of the bloody sword. It fell to the ground with a ringing 'clang'. Williams exhaled sharply, staring at the body of his brother.

Lionel had actually done it. He'd executed his own brother for his crimes against Maria and everyone else. Just as he'd vowed. Because he had to.

As Williams shed another tear to add to his collection.…the Sergeant felt so less Golden.

Another piece of his soul…lost to the blood of duty.

Lionel fell to his knees and broke into tears. But not for Malcolm or himself.

"I'm sorry, Mom," cried Williams, painfully. "I'm sorry, Dad."

Maria stared sadly at her husband for a moment before running over to his side, throwing her arms round her to comfort and support him.

"It's okay, sweetheart," said Maria, caressing her head against Lionel's. "I'm here now."

Lionel - lips quivering, eyes frozen – could only quote, "It _never_ goes away, does it?"

"No. But you'll never have to bear the burden alone, my love. I _promise_ you."

Lionel redirected his gaze to Maria's. And then returned the tight embrace.

"I'm so glad you're safe."

"I couldn't go on without you, Lionel."

The Queen and Doctor Helm slowly treaded over to them. Helm felt like he should've been condemning Williams for committing such a heinous act…but he didn't. Instead, he just felt sympathy and understanding for the soldier.

"Maria…" called the Queen, dangling the silver, heart-shaped locket from her hand, "I think this is yours. I found it in the shack."

Mrs Williams looked up and separated from her husband, smiling in relief. She took it from the masked Tessa, kissed it and drew it tightly to her chest. Maria no longer felt any horrible reminders of constant arguments. Or flames and screams. Now there was peace with her father's memory. Just peace, enabling Elizabeth Parker - no, Maria Williams – to finally move on.

"Queen, thank you," she sighed gratefully. The vigilante smiled back warmly, as Maria fastened the locket back round her neck where it belonged. Then (remembering something), Tessa faced Robert and realised, "Wait a minute…you called _him _Lionel earlier," as she pointed to the soldier.

Her mood changing also, Maria pointed to her husband, joining in with, "When did you start calling him Robert? I thought you hated each other."

"So what changed?" asked a most curious Queen. The two males raised weary smiles, gestured to the other and simultaneously explained to their partners, "He saved my life."

"Is that all it took?" asked Tessa incredulously.

"We should've tried to kill them both ourselves a lot sooner!" remarked Maria. The Queen agreed enthusiastically. Helm and Williams looked ready to welcome the much-needed laugh.

But the unexpected cry of more horses - racing towards them from the canyon's border – were saying that none of them should celebrate just yet.

"This time it's _got_ to be Montoya and Enriquez," realised Robert, gravely.

"With soldiers all shouting 'Queen go home!'," nodded the Avenging Angel, more annoyed than anything else.

Walking over to the masked swordswoman, Sergeant Williams advised, "Go on. I don't think our ambassador is quite ready to see us together yet."

"What about you?"

"Montoya won't simply shoot us on the spot. Not in front of Enriquez. _He's_ heard the prosecution, now it's time to hear the defence. You got the files?"

"Here and safe," the Queen assured, handing the files that she'd brought over from Williams' saddle after the battle was over. She then added hesitantly, "Lionel…are you sure…?"

"No time. No other way. I can cover up for you."

"Tessa," Robert came forward, "I should come with you…"

The Queen of Swords shook her head. "Lionel's right. Anyone who comes with me will be charged as aiding and abetting. This is the way it's got to be."

"Please tell Theresa everything's gonna be fine," Maria asked her, holding Lionel's hand and smiling bravely at him. The soldier smiled back and squeezed her hand. The masked Tessa promised to give Theresa her mother's message when she got home.

The faint sight of the cavalry then came into view over the hills. They'd be here in moments.

"Don't worry about us, we'll be fine," stressed Williams, noting the Queen's reluctance. "Now _beat it!_" The vigilante turned to go, but the soldier grabbed her arm to stop her momentarily.

"And _thanks_," Lionel added sincerely. The masked avenger patted the soldier's arm and then finally took off. Moments later, the Queen and Chico had escaped being spotted and were riding far away from Alunya Canyon. Sergeant Williams had told both Maria and Doctor Helm to remain quiet and let him do all the talking. They stood behind him, looking at the army and ambassador right in their faces as they at last rode onto the stable grounds.

Colonel Montoya was at the front of the cavalry, right next to Ambassador Enriquez with Captain Grisham following behind. Most of the garrison disembarked, weapons drawn and aimed at the trio of fugitives. Others diverged to investigate the scene. They saw Malcolm's men, all tied up and dealt with. With the head and body of their former leader only a few feet away from the 'guilty party'.

Montoya narrowed his eyes at Malcolm's body, then focused on Williams. This development was…interesting to the colonel. The sergeant had no means of incriminating his superiors of anything, and with Conrad dead, the corrupt governor's nose was still clean. Even though the loss of both Conrad brothers and their men would be a devastating loss to his forces.

Grisham could only smirk in delight. All he could think about was the 'guilty man' beheading the 'poor brother' he had also set up. It was almost too good for words.

"Guess what's gold and red all over, Williams?" called Grisham, as his troops gathered up the defeated outlaws and took them to the cart, where the other criminals they'd found and captured on their patrol.

"That's enough, Capitan," ordered Enriquez, taking charge. Grisham held his tongue, but still kept his self-satisfied grin. The Captain, Colonel and Ambassador remained on their horses as Enriquez ordered his horse to trot closer to Williams to address him.

"First, you've been charged with the most serious crimes known to man, Williams," began Enriquez ominously. "Then, you break out of jail, leave a trail of destruction in your wake. And now, after you drag other innocents down with you, seemingly dishonour yourself and your commanding officers…you finally end this bloody chase…"

He looked over to Conrad's head and body and quelled his disgust by concluding with, "Most disgracefully."

"Ambassador Enriquez," began Williams calmly and composed, "before you pass judgement, I respectfully ask that you allow me to explain."

"Explain?" snapped Enriquez viciously. "Can _you_ seriously explain all _this_? To _me_?"

Maria and Doctor Helm kept quiet. Grisham struggled to restrain himself from bursting into hysterics. Montoya just watched with interest.

"Yes, sir," the sergeant spoke truthfully. "I can."

"I sincerely hope so, sergeant. And I would strongly think twice about lying to me."

_Don't worry, _thought Williams to himself. _I've thought long and hard about THIS lie._ Deciding to speak, the American began, "It's like this, Ambassador. A few weeks ago, Captain Grisham himself had personally intercepted information that a dangerous convicted criminal called Malcolm Conrad had escaped his execution and was coming to California to exact his revenge on me."

Grisham's eyes widened with confusion and surprise. _What the hell is he doing?_ Montoya gestured for him to remain silent as Enriquez patiently listened to Williams continue, "Conrad was a psychopath and compulsive liar who stalked my wife and claimed to be my brother. He was dangerous to not only me and my family, but to America as well. The Captain was able to find this out and reported to Colonel Montoya immediately.

"Knowing that he was a threat to the community, the Colonel devised a plan to lure Conrad out into the open. He claimed to believe the outlaw's story and orchestrated an elaborate set-up to lure him and his men out into the open. Given my history with this madman and the threat to my family, Colonel Montoya personally asked me to use myself as a decoy, a scapegoat to achieve this operation's success.

"This portfolio contains the _actual_ accounts of what happened back in America eleven years ago, and my _real _record." Williams handed Enriquez the file, who stared at him for a moment before taking and opening it, to compare with the doctored papers Montoya had shown him earlier. The forgeries were highly convincing, but Enriquez could see that Malcolm Conrad had been the deceiver.

"Further, _more detailed_ study at headquarters will commence, sir," assured Lionel. "But as you can see, it had all been orchestrated from the beginning to bring a highly dangerous fugitive to justice. On behalf of the Santa Helena forces and Colonel Montoya, I apologise for this deception. But because of the notorious corruption, we had to keep the operation confidential to as few men as possible."

Enriquez took his eyes off the evidence and handed it all to one of his aides. He then looked at Doctor Helm and Maria and asked cynically, "_All _orchestrated?"

"Except Maria's abduction. Doctor Helm was unwillingly dragged into this when Conrad's men attacked during my escape. But with his invaluable help, we were able to rescue my wife and bring the operation to a success."

"I see. And this is _all true_, Colonel Montoya?"

All attention directed to the corrupt governor, whose eyes remained fixed and unblinking on Williams, as they had been during the entire time. Montoya was stone-faced for a few more seconds before sprouting a sly smile and an impressed chuckle.

"The mark of a Golden Sergeant," remarked the colonel, directing his hand proudly to showcase Williams to the ambassador. "Remembered my plan _perfectly_. Everything from the first capital letter to the final full stop."

Grisham couldn't believe it! Maria and the Doctor couldn't either! But while they were trying to suppress grins and laughter, Grisham could only gnash his teeth and seethe to himself.

His mood changing, the impressed Enriquez declared, "Well, Colonel, it would seem congratulations are in order. It's pleasing that you are most dedicated to exorcising all crime from Santa Helena, in spite of your dubious standing. The Spanish Court will be most pleased to hear of this. I will gladly insist to them that you receive honours for your excellent efforts."

"Thank you, Ambassador Enriquez," said Montoya smugly. "I am deeply honoured."

Enriquez then commended both Captain Grisham and Doctor Helm for their work, and then addressed Williams again, saying that all this success would mean promotion for him. Grisham was beside himself over the news. Robert was amazed, and Maria gave a short laugh of disbelief. Lionel couldn't believe it either, yet he responded professionally by standing to attention and snapping a salute.

The ambassador ordered the captain to have his men take the prisoners and Conrad's head and body away, and arrange an escort party to take Maria to Doctor Helm's for treatment before taking home. Upon learning that their daughter was at the Alvarado Hacienda, Enriquez promised to arrange to collect her for her parents. He ordered Williams to have his wounds tended to and then meet up with him and Montoya back at headquarters. The ambassador bid them farewell, leaving a smiling colonel to converse with his sergeant.

"Well played, Williams."

"Same to you, Colonel."

"I must confess surprise," spoke the governor, honestly. "I would've thought you'd tried to _implicate_ me."

"Now why would I do that?" asked Lionel innocently. "When I have no _proof_? But I can't help but wonder, sir…if I _did_ have proof…and I chose not to use it against you. That would probably be so much worse. Knowing that I chose to fuel your success instead of ending it. And that would be a very _torturing_ thought, knowing that _you owe me_. Of course, this is all academic. Because you're not _really_ a bitter, _petty_ man. Are you, Colonel Montoya?"

The corrupt tyrant just smiled back mockingly at the American and replied, "Not at all, my trusted sergeant. In fact, I appreciate and value great soldiers who think on their feet. And who also aspire to _be like me_. _Murdering family_ to further _personal goals_."

Williams glared coldly at his commanding officer, clenching his fist.

"As well as knowing when to stifle rage, knowing that he can do nothing but accept defeat and enjoy the taste that stays in your mouth _forever_. My clever, little mascot."

"Touché," The American swallowed accordingly.

"No hard feelings…'Mrs Williams'?" smiled the governor condescendingly.

"Of _course_ not, _Colonel_," Maria retorted, just as patronising, before vowing, "Until _next _time."

The two soldiers saluted each other and then Montoya rode off, ordering the Golden Sergeant to report back to his office after having his injuries seen to. Robert walked up to Lionel, looking at the fading sight of the governor.

"And so the smug bastard lives to fight another day," mused the Englishman.

"Hmm," grunted the soldier in agreement, before adding, "But so do _we_."

The two friends smiled and high-fived. Maria also smiled as she and her husband placed their arms round each other's shoulders and walked away with Robert behind them.

* * *

><p>In the Rose Courtyard three days later, there was good cause for a celebration.<p>

Doctor Helm had found Maria's toughness remarkable. The cuts, bruises and gunshot wounds were superficial. The vicious boot that had knocked Maria out _had indeed_ given her a small concussion, but with plenty of rest, her concussion was gone and her blood regenerated. The bruise to her back still caused her discomfort but the lotion Doctor Helm had prescribed was helping.

As Maria now stood in her best violet dress and make-up, the only blemishes that were visible to the other invitees were the bandage on her left cheek for the nasty cut under her eye (which would heal), and the other bandaging on her arms for where Malcolm's gun and sword had hurt her.

Despite the scars, Maria looked radiant and some of the Dons' wives and Senoritas found her appearance and recent exploits inspiring. Of course, the most obvious exceptions were Carmella and Lola, who found her appearance and demeanour ridiculous and laughable. But they kept their opinions solely to themselves, knowing better than to get on Maria's bad side.

Tessa had returned home with a 'message from the Queen' to give to Theresa. Delighted that everything was going to be okay, the Williams' daughter immediately burst into a huge grin. Naturally, she was thrilled upon hearing of her father's promotion, and naturally moaned that she had to miss it because of school.

Robert's lip was swollen no longer, and he now felt like his old self again. Well, as happy as possible for any soldier struggling to deal with his past. But as Tessa secretly gave him a warm smile and squeezed his hand in support, the Englishman nodded back his thanks. He'd gotten over the events of the last few days, and as he stood with Tessa, Marta and Maria looking on…Robert Helm also felt pride and respect for Lionel Williams' moment of glory.

Because both had long last come to terms with the other.

Here and now, the Golden Boy stood dressed in his new uniform. As the ceremony went on, and Lionel vowed to uphold his duties, to protect and serve, to enforce the law and swear never to violate the trust or abuse the new power that had been given to him…the American veteran could see – from the corner of his eye – his wife and all his friends. Happy for him. Proud of him.

Also feeling better from his own injuries, Williams actually felt hopeful over the Royal Court backing the soldier and entrusting him with more power. To see all the happy faces who genuinely believed in their hero was uplifting. And to see those who were displeased with his promotion – namely Don Gaspar, Don de la Calderon and (most importantly) Captain Grisham – was humorous to Williams. In any event, Lionel felt like he could truly move on now. Malcolm's execution should've haunted him, but it didn't. After the name change, fleeing to Spain, enslaved by Napoleon, just to find his way to Santa Helena…Lionel's work finally started to feel like it had now really amounted to something.

A beginning.

_It's a good day today, _the American realised. _And it's mine. It belongs to me. And that's GOOD._

"And so," declared Montoya, taking the badge to award Williams, "with the full approval of the Spanish Court, and the power invested in me…I, Colonel Luis Montoya, hereby promote you, Lionel Williams…to the rank of _lieutenant, first class_."

Montoya pinned the badge onto Lionel's jacket, and the two soldiers saluted each other. An enthusiastic ovation followed, with Tessa, Marta, Maria and Robert lauding Williams the most. Ambassador Enriquez endorsed the new lieutenant with praise, and Vera Hidalgo, Dons Vega, Ricardo and Philippe showed genuine happiness for him. Dry clapping from certain aristocrats were drowned by the majority who found the decision popular. Private opinion was split between the soldiers on guard, who remained divided with their opposing loyalties to Montoya and Williams.

As the celebrations began, Montoya took his new lieutenant over to the bushes for a private discussion. And much to Lionel's surprise, Montoya shook his hand and sincerely congratulated him for his achievement.

"I must confess surprise, sir," Lieutenant Williams spoke, "after such…"

"No need for surprise," Montoya downplayed. "I fully believe in giving credit where credit is due. Particularly to someone who has actually _earned_ my respect."

Raising an eyebrow, the Golden Boy said, "Doctor Helm _was_ right, Colonel. You _are _a very complicated man."

"Most underlings are _expendable_, Williams. You, the good Doctor and my Captain are _not_. Why else do you think you're all still alive?"

The governor spoke before the American had a chance to retort, "You are dismissed, Lieutenant. Milk your victory for all it's worth. Just remember…such honesty and drive can only take a man…_so _far."

"Why would I want to go all the way?" sniggered Lionel. "When I only need to go _far enough_…just to stamp out all the little _vermin_ once and for all."

The Golden Boy then swiftly remembered he was dismissed, leaving his commanding officer once more incensed.

"And so the self-righteous asshole gets glittered with gold," muttered the jealous captain, coming over. "_Again_."

"The situation is doubly frustrating for me, Grisham," confessed Montoya, highly annoyed. "_He's_ in line to becoming a better captain than _you_."

The Colonel stormed off, with his second-in-command discretely giving him the finger behind his back. Fortunately for Grisham, no one else noticed his uncouthly behaviour.

The party continued throughout the afternoon with happy celebration and William's supporters giving him heartiest congratulations. Alberto Enriquez and the new lieutenant cemented their friendship by calling each other by their first names. The Ambassador wished Lionel every success going forth and that he believed in him. Enriquez then proceeded to thank both Tessa Alvarado and Maria Williams for welcoming him to Santa Helena. He promised to give Tessa's uncle (Don Alejandro) her warm regards back in Spain, and that it had been a pleasure to meet them all.

When the opportunity came, the Ambassador and his aides chose to quietly make their leave, before the de la Calderon family could swarm them. Satisfied that Santa Helena's future was now in safe hands, the Royal Court Representatives could now plan their departure. Their business in California was finished for the time being. Pleasantly surprised by his judicious manner and general attitude, Tessa and her friends (even Marta) hoped for the chance to meet their ambassador again.

As the party went on, Williams grew bored and suggested to Doctor Helm that since they _both_ shared a dislike for parties, they should have a _real celebration_, over a drink and a game of cards…and maybe 'compare notes' and 'share war stories'. Understanding that the lieutenant believed in therapy, Robert agreed, particularly over a beer. They agreed to meet at the Doctor's office later tonight, while Maria asked Tessa if they could have another sparring session at the hacienda that evening, to which the senorita delightfully agreed.

Leaving Marta to babysit Theresa at the Williams' household. The gypsy sighed good-naturedly, but when Maria soothed her with, "But Theresa's really been enjoying learning about the Tarot cards!" the Gypsy servant laughed, agreeing to make a card reader out of Theresa yet.

Maria then had to leave with Doctor Helm for a check-up appointment, and Marta went away to pick Theresa up from school. Leaving Lionel alone on the balcony overlooking the pueblo.

"So…"

The Golden Lieutenant turned to see Senorita Alvarado join him on the balcony and smile, "still think all your hard work has been for _nothing_?"

"Surely _you've_ had moments like that, kid."

"_Everyone_ does, Lionel. But everyone _must_ realise…hard work _does_ pay off. Especially when it comes to making things better."

The soldier smiled warmly at looked out to see the happy townsfolk going about their lives, some of them waving at him as they went by.

"You're right, Tessa. And…seeing _their_ faces," he pointed to the people below, "in _this_ town…makes the fight all the more worthwhile."

Tessa grinned proudly at the soldier, and then remarked, "It's a shame about Andrew Conrad."

Williams immediately looked at the aristocrat with a quizzical expression. The senorita then explained, "It's a shame I never really got a chance to know him. He sounded like a fine man. Bold, courageous, perseveres in the face of adversity for friends, family and his fellow man…never shirks his duty and cares about innocence and humanity…

"But from where I stand, I doubt he would've been half the great man and friend…that _Lionel Williams_ is."

Genuinely moved by her statement, Lionel tried to hide it with a quiet, "So which of _your_ dual identities am I meant to prefer, kid?"

"Both," smiled Tessa cheekily. "After all, _you've already_ _retired _one alias…old man."

"Hey!" laughed Lieutenant Williams. Senorita Alvarado then laughed as the two friends linked arms and returned to the party.

**END OF ARC 3**


End file.
